


Amount to Nothing

by tigrin



Series: Amount to Nothing [1]
Category: Titan AE (2000)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-01
Updated: 2008-01-22
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 43,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigrin/pseuds/tigrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cale is 14, his best friend is kidnapped by slavers, and Cale sets off to find and rescue him. AU, OC-centric</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written between 2002 and 2008, as a rewrite of a short story written in October 2000. Originally published on FanFiction.net.
> 
> Disclaimer: Cale Tucker, Sam Tucker, Iji, Tek, and other Titan A.E. related material is © Fox Animation. The song lyrics are "Stolen Child" by Loreena McKennitt and "Children's Lullaby" by Vertical Horizon, in order of appearance. I am not intending to infringe copyright.

The sun crept slowly into the sky of Earth, the last dawn it would ever see. It crawled over the land, staining the sky red and driving out the shadow of the night. Something in the breath of the morning wind whispered a warning over the Earth. The whole land shadowed with fear and suspicion. The birds shuttered in their trees and the grass swayed, passing on the word of danger. And yet humanity slept.

But one little boy did not.

He sat watching the sunrise, pawing the earth with one hand, the grass shivering around him. The breeze whispered in his ears and ruffled his short brown hair. He felt earth tremble under his small palm. Troubled, he squinted at the horizon.

As the 5-year-old boy rose and began to run down the hill, he didn't notice the blue streak that sped across the sky. As he skipped down the sidewalk back through his neighborhood, humming and trotting along to his own little song in his head, he didn't notice how empty the street was, how the windowpanes stared blank and dark down at him from deserted homes. He continued his trot until he found himself in front of his own home: a small, quaint little house with two stories, and a lawn like green carpet framed with a white-picket fence. He stood smiling for a moment and then ran up to the door. He reached for the doorknob, but before he could lay his hand on it, it creaked open. The smile slowly faded. Pushing the door open, he peered inside the shambles of his desolate home.

The air was still and silent. The boy squinted as he adjusted to the low light, glancing around the room. It looked the same as always, but things had been knocked over and ruffled. Items were broken and missing from their shelves. The boy stepped into the house, setting his hand on the stair rail. An unknown feeling of panic began to seize him. "Mom?" he called out. His voice echoed throughout the house, repeating over and over again into the distance. "Dad?" No reply. He stepped backwards, hesitating, and ran out of the house.

He gaped up at the sky. It was a murky brown, the clouds steaming past. Two blue streaks flashed across the sky. A feeling of terror overtook him, and he began to run blindly down the street. He knew now what the whisper in the wind was telling him, and all he thought and felt was that he needed to get away, far away. He ran back up the hill, trampling the grass beneath his small booted feet. He looked up to see a figure standing on the top of the hill; a tall man dressed in brown, holding a small boy on his arm. They were staring off into the distance, and as he approached the blonde-haired boy gazed down at him. Lifting his arm he pointed, and the boy in the grass turned to follow, the wind rushing furiously past his ears.

He was no longer standing on the hill now but staring off across space, the Earth the focus of his vision. The sun glittered off of its surface, ringing the Earth in a white halo, sitting peacefully against a backdrop of eternal darkness. The boy could see now that the Earth was surrounded with little blue spacecrafts, leaving a haze as they tore past. His eyes strayed to a massive blue craft hovering directly over the Earth. It was revolving slowly, looking down upon the Earth as a predator sizes up its prey. Time slowed to a stop and the boy could feel his heart beat slowed. The craft opened fire. A beam of blue light struck the Earth like a drill, slowly engulfing it in purple flame. It spread in slow motion down the Earth, leaving nothing but fire and devastation behind it. The boy watched as the Earth slowly cracked, and started to spin faster and faster - until it finally fell apart, pieces sailing off in every direction. The boy's vision was filled with light and fire, and he heard a voice screaming in the distance...

He opened his eyes. Everything was silent and black. For a moment he thought he was still in the eternity of space. His heart raced and sweat dripped down his cheeks. Gripping the blanket he closed his eyes, swallowing and breathing deep. It was not the first time he had this dream, and he knew who had screamed. As much as he'd like to believe it was just a nightmare, he knew he couldn't. His nightmare was reality. And now, nine years later, there was no getting around it.


	2. Chapter I - Of Photographs, Sunlight, and Old Friends

Dawn crept slowly over the surface of Vusstra, illuminating the rank, yellow-green air with a pale warm light. It flitted on the tops of the buildings in the heart of the city beyond. It mangled the tops of the rickety trees spanning the horizon, bone figures clawing their way up through the acidic air. Crawling down the sides of these grotesque figures, the sunlight jogged across the hills, finally coming to rest on a group of metallic houses, glinting in the sunlight. It crept up the side of one house, filtering through a windowpane. The light played around the room, illuminating a very small, solemn space. On the other side of the window laid a bed, the covers crumpled at the foot. On the wall above, a couple torn photographs hung by worn pieces of tape. An antique wooden dresser sat beneath the window, clashing with the technological flair of the house. The head of the dresser was cluttered with an assortment of books and pencils, and a lamp sat precariously over the edge, its shade tilted bemusedly to one side. A boy sat with his back to his dresser, the knobs pressing into his shirt. He watched as the dawn crept into his bedroom, throwing shadows across the walls. Dark rings hung beneath listless, tired eyes. Once again, Taylor Noire couldn't sleep.

Earth was gone. It was still hard to comprehend. It was hard for the entire human race to take in - or rather, what was left of the human race. Most of it had been wiped out in one blow, what was left resigned to dilapidated "Drifter colonies" thrown together from bundled up escape vehicles. Humanity was crushed, defeated, hopeless, and homeless. Humans were now the scum of the universe, shoved to the side and ground down, but whether out of fear or disgust, it was hard to say. It was hard to tell anything anymore. It all came down to one race: the Drej. It was all lost the day the Drej descended from the sky. So it wasn't surprising that to him that he often had nightmares, visions of a forgotten world denounced to space dust.

He sat lost in his own thoughts and memories, tracing his finger along the patterns of an old rug. Outside the door he could hear the murmurs of a house stirring to life. There were the sounds of opening and closing doors; a loud bang that suggested Cale had fallen out of bed; a high-pitched squeal; and the patter of feet scrambling down stairs. He was pulled from his reverie by the familiar sounds of his family. He smiled as he pushed himself to his feet, staggering towards the door.

* * *

Cale Tucker slid down the hall on his socked feet, flailing his arms, trying to get a hand on the wall to keep from falling over backward. Up ahead a smaller creature clad in flower-print pajamas sped down the hall, giggling and squealing as she threw herself down the staircase. Cale took off in wild pursuit.

"Ijit, I'll get you this time!" he shouted at the alien girl as she took a sharp left and sped out of sight. His threat was answered only with another squeal. Cale raced after her, hurtling down the stairs, gripping the railing with one hand. He jumped the last few steps and followed the creature's escape route with panther-like agility. He came to a stop in a peaceful dining room, steadying himself with one hand, gripping the edge of the table as he peered around the room. _Now where'd she go…?_ As if in answer to his thought, a muffled giggle emitted from beneath the table. With a grin, Cale started to circle the table.

"Where is she? I wonder where she could have gone…" he wondered aloud. The voice beneath the table snorted with laughter. Cale darted beneath the table. There was a squeak and the girl scrambled out from under the table, taking off through the doorway, running right into the arms of another alien like herself. The alien wrinkled his short trunk with amusement as Cale crawled out from under the table, a sheepish grin on his face. The girl was in hysterics, tugging on the adult's arm. The alien's yellow eyes glinted as he looked down at his two adopted children. "Iji, now, it's quite all right," the alien said down to the girl in his arms in a deep, soft voice.

Cale stood up in front of the table, trying to look innocent. His mussed blond hair fell in two short locks above hazel eyes. He cocked his head, hands in the pockets of a torn pair of pants, creased from sleep. He smiled at the older alien. "I didn't do anything, Tek… she sneaked into my bedroom and pulled the sheets off my bed again. I fell." The girl, Iji, shot Cale a dark look. Cale stuck his tongue out at her, and she wrinkled her snout at him.

Tek grinned at the two and made a sound in his throat. "Now, now, none of this - this constant bickering between you two… I'd swear you were siblings."

Cale smiled at Tek, then looked off behind him as another figure hobbled down the stairs. The boy had dark brown hair with long bangs that fell just above his eyes. He was already dressed in a pair of cargo pants and an oversized white shirt that hung from his thin limbs. The boy was tall and gangly from a recent growth spurt. His slanted, brown eyes still had a sparkle of life to them in his otherwise tired face. Cale smiled wider as the boy made his way towards the group. "Morning, Tai! How you feeling?"

The boy lifted his eyes to Cale's and gave a weak smile. "Like I've been steamrolled by a cargo ship, but I've been worse." He gave Tek and Iji a reassuring grin, who had turned at his arrival.

Tai was Cale's best friend, and the only person Cale truly connected with as family, since they had known each other practically their whole lives. Both had shared the similar experience of losing their families and their home, making the two especially close. They had a bond that Tek's penetrating eyes and Iji's wild antics could not pick out. The two fourteen-year-olds had spent the past nine years with only each other as company in an alien universe, and that was enough.

The group turned to the dining room, and it wasn't long until breakfast was on the way, Cale and Iji bickering the whole time, Tek glancing at them every once in awhile with a smirk or imploring them in his soft voice to quit fooling around before they hurt themselves. Tai helped set the table, smiling and laughing and joking with Cale over the din of Iji and Tek. Life seemed so normal and perfect during those few minutes before breakfast that morning. Tai sat down at the table and thought back to how he had gotten here, many years ago.

_The little boy scrambled through the tall grass, pushing his way with his small hands, every once in awhile daring a glance at the sky above as aircrafts many times the size of the young boy sped through a brown sky. The boy's face was tear-stained and his eyes were wide with fear and confusion. Where had Mom and Dad gone? He couldn't find them anywhere. He ran up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him, hoping to see his parents once he was standing on top of that monstrous hill._

_When he got to the hill, however, there was someone already there. A man, tall and strong in a military uniform, his smoothed brown hair caught flapping on the wake of the spacecrafts that sped not far overhead. In his arms the man held a boy, no older than the boy below scrambling through the grass. He had short blond hair and round face, and he was clutching a broken toy in his hands. Both father and son were staring off below the hill, towards the scene beyond. The boy paused for a moment, looking over the pair before rushing up to them. He grabbed the man's pant leg, tugging it. His words came out in a rush, twisting into babble. The blond-haired boy looked down in surprise. The man frowned, eyes wrought with pity._

_The blond boy looked curiously at his father. "What's wrong with Tai, Dad?" he asked._

_The man hesitated. "I think Taylor should come with us, is that alright, Cale?" Cale nodded, and the man picked up Tai and they set off towards the hovercraft approaching over the hill. He set the two boys down next to each other, talking animatedly with a Tek and another man up front. Cale smiled at Tai, reaching over and grabbing his hand. Tai smiled back, his fears forgotten._

_"Don't worry," the blond-haired boy said to Tai. "You're okay now."_

When Cale's father had left them that day, it had been hard on them both, but especially on Cale. Although his father was gone, Tai came to live with Cale. Cale still thought often of his father. In the slow parts of the day, Tai would see him staring off into space, clutching a plain gold ring – a trinket Cale's father had left him. Even now Tai could see it glinting on Cale's finger. Cale still hoped in the promise his father had gave nine years ago, a promise that they would see each other again. A promise that, so far, had not been kept.


	3. Chapter II - A Fate Worse Than Death

The house was quiet that afternoon. Tek left for work hours before, eager as always to continue his research. He had taken Iji with him, dropping her off at a neighbor's for the day. Cale and Tai were left alone in the house.

Tai sat at the bottom of the stairs, clutching a sketchpad, long since filled front to back with a variety of drawings. Cale often asked to see the sketchpad, but he refused. There were some things he preferred to keep to himself. Tai often used his artistic talents as an outlet, letting out all his thoughts and memories and fears into his drawings. He didn't want Cale to see this side of him. The last thing he wanted to seem in the eyes of his brother was weak or deranged. The tattered sketchbook sat on his knees, pencil in hand and earphones blasting a noisy rock song into his head. He stared listlessly at the front door, eyes unfocused, staring off into some world far away. After a time he tore his eyes away, pulling the earphones off and setting them down on the steps beside him. With a sigh, he stood up and sauntered off down the hall.

* * *

He stood outside the door of the lab, hesitating. Tai shifted his weight, biting his lip as he stared at the door, trying to decide whether or not he wanted to just turn around and leave. He pressed his hand against the door, pushing it forward and peering inside.

The room was a mess. The floor was covered in old machinery parts, crippled engines and lost wirings and metal corkscrews. In the middle of the room was a long, flat table, over which hung a lamp that flickered every once in awhile. The top of the table was cluttered with parts and tools, and standing behind it was Cale, tinkering with some type of machine. Cale's eyes strained under the dim light and his brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't notice Tai until he cleared his throat. Cale jerked his head up in surprise, hitting the bottom of the low-hanging lamp. Startled, he swore loudly, gripping the back of his head. "Jesus, Tai, can't you _knock_?" he growled at the brown-haired boy standing in the doorway.

"Sure. But it would have foiled my ingenious plan to bruise your inflated ego," Tai drawled, hands in his pockets.

Cale's grimace of pain turned to a grin as he turned his hazel eyes on Tai. "Didn't see _that_ one coming. You don't have to be so sarcastic all the time, you know."

"Yeah, but then life wouldn't be _nearly_ as much fun."

"No doubt." Cale stepped back from the table, still rubbing the spot on the back of his head. "So, what's up? Come to admire my pristine little workshop?" He swept his free hand to indicate the cluttered room.

Tai smirked and toed a piece of machinery sitting nearby with his foot. A light flickered a blazing red and died.

"'Pristine' wouldn't be how I'd describe it, but no… I guess I was just bored."

Cale smiled. "What, nothing left to draw in that little book of yours? When you gonna let me see that, anyway?"

Tai looked down at the floor. "Actually, uh… I was wondering… if you're not busy… if you wanted to come with me to the city… I was going to pick up a new sketchpad or something. And supposedly they are clearing out the music-chip store, so we could look there, too." He cocked an eyebrow down at the floor. "Unless you'd prefer to go to the junkyard, I heard they're having a big scrap sale."

Cale's eyes widened. "Really?"

"No."

"Oh."

"So, you wanna come?"

Cale sighed. "I'd like to, but I really want to finish this, I'm so close…" He gestured to the small machine he had been tinkering with when Tai had arrived.

Tai tried not to look disappointed. "Oh, okay … I'll just… go by myself." He contorted his face to look pouty, lower lip trembling, which made Cale laugh. Faking a laugh in return he turned and left the lab, shutting the door behind him a little harder than needed. Cale just shook his head and returned to his work.

* * *

The sky was dank green in color, which went well with the lusterless scenery. It wasn't cold but still chilly, and Tai rubbed his bare arms as he walked down the empty street. He had taken one of the buses to the inner city, since it was a good walk from the house and he didn't feel like trudging the way completely alone. Now as he strolled he looked up the sides of the buildings towering high above him, their sides black and their windows barren. At first glance it was hard to tell one store from another, until closer inspection found the dusty outlines of signs on the storefront windows. The street was cracked and damp, and rat-like creatures with too many beady red eyes scuttled through the cracks and alleys on the sides of the street. It was a slow afternoon, and the few other Vusstrans that roamed the streets moved quickly without a glance his way.

Tai spotted the store he was looking for. It was ordinary looking, indistinguishable from the other shops, with the exception of a dirty sign on the window that barely read "Thrift" on it in Vusstran. He paused for a moment and pushed open the door, stepping inside.

He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the light, brighter than the street outside but still dim. The shop was still and empty. The shelves stood inert, and the thick air was tense and foreboding.

What he failed to notice at first were three massive aliens, perhaps about twenty feet away. All were facing each other, grunting and jeering. Tai felt a heavy sinking in his heart; he didn't know who these aliens were, but he knew that right now this wasn't a good place to be. The aliens didn't seem to have noticed Tai come in. Tai backed up slowly, silently, reaching for the doorknob…

The alien on the right spotted him. Its smirk - which showed rows of long, sharp white teeth - faded to a frown. The others noticed this disconnection and they turned to follow his gaze. Tai no longer felt like he had a heart, though he was faintly aware of it pounding somewhere far off. For a moment, time froze. Then the alien in the middle grinned, and the others resumed their laughing. The alien in the middle was by far the tallest and largest, with a face like a squashed panther's. Its upper body was enormous and heavily muscled, the biceps on both of its arms bulging. The other two dwarfed in comparison.

"Well, what do we have here?" The alien roared with a devious laugh. The other two aliens were chuckling, eyes glinting. The alien stepped forward, easily closing the distance between tem. Any hope of escape now was wiped as Tai was forced to look straight up just to see into the monster's eyes. "A human?"

The alien on the monster's left piped up. "Not just a human, but a puny little human at that." Tai felt a surge of anger, but was unable to say anything due to a large lump in his throat. He looked around as the three aliens cackled again. _I've gotta get out of here…_

Finally the ringleader came to himself and he looked down at the boy pressed against the door. "You know, Euglith, how I feel about humans." He bent down low, so he was just above Tai's eye level. Tai's fearful brown gaze clashed with the malicious yellow stare of the alien. "I hate them," he spat, "hate them, and everything to do with them. They are nothing but weak, slime-dripping sewer rats." Tai's eyes flashed with a sudden fierce anger.

"Shut up!" Tai spat back, his eyes glinting with a momentary fire and his hands clenching.

The alien laughed.

"Look, boys!" the alien called to the two standing above him. "The human thinks he's tough!" Tai's courage wavered. The alien had turned his gaze back to Tai. Without warning he stuck out a clawed hand and tapped Tai hard on chest, enough force to slam Tai back against the metal door. Tai gasped and sank down to the floor, cringing. The aliens howled with laughter. He pushed himself to his feet, knees shaking and blood trickling from his lip where he had bit it. The middle alien bent down once more, coming so close to Tai's face that they were only inches apart. Tai glared straight back into the alien's eyes.

"You see, _Human_ ," the alien whispered to Tai so only he could hear, spitting the last word like a foul curse. "You are just a weak little rodent, and that's all you'll ever be. It's all you and all your miserable little friends will ever be. Ever." Tai looked away.

The alien stood up, still looking down at the boy, an odd, dull glint in his yellow eyes. "Tell you what, Human," he drawled, starting to smirk. "We'll play a little game. I'll make it really simple for you. All you have to do is try and stop me, and we'll just walk away." His companions chuckled. The ringleader continued. "So how about it?" He spread his arms, inviting.

The rage in Tai faded, leaving him with the overwhelming chill of terror. His fight-or-flight instincts clashed and his thoughts screamed in his head. His hand twitched but he didn't move, just stared, frozen.

The aliens moved in a little closer, still cackling. The ringleader reached out and tapped Tai on the shoulder, a nudge, just enough to sting and push Tai's heart up into his throat. "Come on, Human. Fight back," the alien sneered. Still his fists stayed clenched at his side, eyes locked forward, mind racing. _Come on. It's so easy. Just do something. Anything. It'll all be over then._ But he didn't move. The aliens continued to poke and prod at him, trying to goad him into a reaction. _No, I'll die, I'm going to die, they're going to kill me._ He shook his head, eyes clenched shut. _No. I can't… I can't…_ Tears squeezed out and streamed down his cheeks.

The aliens stepped back and roared with laughter. "Is that it? That's all that you've got?" the ringleader howled. He shook his head as the laughter died down. " _Pathetic_ …" he muttered. "This is a waste of my time." The ringleader glanced around at his alien companions. " _Kill him_ ," he hissed. They did not move, just frowned apprehensively at their captain.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" The alien snapped.

The alien on the right spoke up, "Well, sir, it's just that… you see…"

"Come out with it!" the ringleader roared.

The alien flinched. "Well, I was just thinking… we're heading back to the station soon… we haven't found anything this trip… and, well, he is a human, sir, and particularly young, and humans fetch a good price, I've heard, especially the males when they are younger…"

Puzzlement crossed the leader's face. "Well, yes, but…" The other alien caught the sudden suspicious look on his leader's face and quickly continued.

"It's not out of concern for the human, nothing like that, I was just thinking…"

"Yes, Gthyln, I get it!" He looked back down at the boy on the floor. Tai's eyes were still shut, knees shaking. "Realize, Human," the alien growled down at the boy's defeated form. "That you are not being spared. Such a fate is worse than death. But I wouldn't know. I don't know what it's like." Tai opened his eyes and looked up to see the alien grinning. "Take him," he spat at Euglith, and without a moment's hesitation, the alien swung his fist hard against the side of Tai's head.


	4. Chapter III - An Empty House and an Uneasy Feeling

At first he wasn't sure if he had really opened his eyes at all. There was nothing but black. A sudden rush of pain sprang into the side of Tai's face and he cringed, clutching his cheek with a frozen hand. Pain was seeping into his awareness, stirring his senses back to life. His mind swum with questions: where he was, how he got there, why everything hurt. He looked up around him, eyes adjusting to the dim light.

The first thing he discerned was the blurred outlines of long, vertical lines. He lifted his head and squinted; the bars came into focus. Looking past he could see piles of boxes and machinery all around, stacked high in untidy mountains. He pushed himself off the metal floor, wincing at the soreness in his muscles. He tried to stand but found that his head immediately hit something very hard, and he sank back down against the wall that made up the back end of the cage, rubbing his head and looking up at the lid. His eyes drifted back to the bars, and he reached a hand out to one, shaking it. It didn't budge. Gritting his teeth, he wrapped both hands around bars and shook with all his might, ignoring the screaming pain in his side. Finally he fell back against the wall, panting. A surge of nausea coursed through him. He leaned over just in time to prevent himself from vomiting on his feet. He leaned on one arm, shaking, retching. When he had caught his breath he pushed himself as far away as he could, burying his face in his hands.

He sat there for what felt like centuries, the room never changing and the darkness never lifting. Tai began to remember walking along the barren street, the thrift store, the alien thugs… he felt his heart sink. He wished he had put up a fight, had done something, anything. Thoughts raced through his mind. He thought of the house back on Vusstra, of Cale and Tek and Iji, and whether or not they would realize he was gone. He found himself thinking of things he always tried so hard not to think of: Earth, his parents, and the life he could have had.

Tai was no stranger to silence, preferred it sometimes; but now, in this dark prison, he hated it. It wasn't so much the darkness that dampened his spirit, or the bars that held him in, but the feeling of being completely and totally helpless. Fear rose up within him, a crippling terror that shook his heart. It screamed in agony, over and over: _What's going to happen to me now? Will I see anyone again? Am I going to die?_ He shook violently, holding back tears. He sunk to the floor of his cage, clutching at his ears, until the flood of fear and despair ebbed and he fell into a troubled sleep.

* * *

Cale set the machine down on the table. The palm-sized hunk of silvery metal shimmered in the dim lamplight, and Cale smirked at his handiwork. From his pocket he took out a small piece of metal flattened into a bracelet. He looked from the bracelet to the machine sitting on the table, and pressed down on a small blue button set into the machine's dashboard.

The machine glowed and flickered an electric green. A small screen stirred to life. A line danced across the black screen, forming a map of the room. In the middle of the map a red light beeped in and out. Cale stared at the blip of red light, glanced at the bracelet, and tossed it across the room to the door. The red dot followed the path of the bracelet, and Cale looked at the machine with a glow of pride.

"Perfect," Cale exclaimed to no one in particular. In truth, he had not yet devised a use for the gadget. Even so, he held such small accomplishments at heart. In the back of his mind, it reminded him of times he and his father used to tinker with inventions in a similar little workshop. Any triumph of his father's was shared with Cale then, because they made everything together. Now they were separated space and time, he felt like he might be one step closer to his father.

He looked up at the clock hanging on the wall. It was a ruddy little thing, put together from scraps, and it often would lag behind a few seconds if anyone spoke too loudly. Even still, there was no mistaking that it was late. He felt a pang of anxiety; where were Tek and Iji? And where was Tai? He left hours ago and had yet to return. He figured Tek was probably caught up at work; he knew how Tek would sometimes get so into his work he lost track of time – one of the few characteristics Tek and Cale had in common. As for Tai, Cale didn't worry. He was sure, wherever Tai was, that he would make it home. Perhaps he had just gotten caught up shopping. With a shake of his head and a sigh, Cale returned to the little machine, which had started to sputter green sparks.

* * *

It was well into the night when Tek returned home. The bags under his eyes didn't hide that the long day at work had taken its toll. Even Iji was missing the spark she always possessed, clinging to her foster father's arm and rubbing her eyes as they walked up the steps and pushed open the door.

The house was cold, dark and empty. Tek took Iji up to her room and put her to bed; she dozed off right away, tuckered from a long day of harassing the neighbors. Tek tottered wearily down the hallway, peering into a bedroom. The bed was empty. Frowning, he continued down the hallway. With some difficulty he pushed the door of another room open. It was cluttered, but empty. He turned from the doorway. "Cale?" he called, voice echoing. "Taylor? Where are you two?" Tek stood for a moment and headed for the only place he thought they could be.

Tek pushed the door open, squinting to see inside the near dark room. The floor of the room was littered with scrap metal and parts from various machines of all types, and on the table in the middle of the room was Cale, his head slumped into his folded arms. His shoulders rose and fell softly.

Tek cleared his throat, wrinkling his trunk in amusement. Cale's head snapped up, his eyelids flickering. "Wuh? Oh… hi, Tek," Cale said as the form of the alien swam together in his eyes.

"What are you doing in here?"

Cale yawned and stretched. "Oh… uh… I was, uh…"

"Sleeping?" Tek said, amused.

Cale gave Tek a sheepish grin and didn't reply. Tek looked around the room. Cale watched in confusion. "What? What is it?"

"Well, I assumed Taylor would be here with you."

Cale blinked. "Tai isn't here?"

Tek shook his head. "Hmm, no, it appears not… the house was empty, with the exception of you, and I was just upstairs putting Iji to bed."

Cale's eyes widened, and all at once the drowsiness left his body. "Where is he? He should have been back hours ago."

Tek tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean? Did Taylor go somewhere?"

Cale waved his hand with a manner of impatience. "Yeah, he said something earlier today about going to the city and getting a sketchbook… something about scrap music or metal chips or something…"

"He went to the city?" Tek repeated with apprehension. "Cale, I told you two you were not allowed to leave the house under any circumstances. And he went alone?"

Cale bowed his head to the table. Tek took his silence as an answer.

"Cale…"

"I'm sorry, okay? I just… I got really caught up with what I was doing, I didn't think…" He cut himself off, running his hands through his dirty blonde hair. "Tek, where do you think he is?"

Tek wrinkled his trunk once more. "Well, I doubt he is still in the city. Perhaps he came back late and is staying with one of the neighbors."

"I doubt it." Cale said with a smile. "Everybody knows he's nothing but trouble."

"Hmm, yes, but that's only when _you_ are around."

Feeling reassured, Cale followed Tek out of the workshop. He reached back and touched a small panel, flicking off the dim little lamplight that had kept him company for so long.


	5. Chapter IV - Reality Check

_Clang._ He lifted his head, eyes darting around the room. Across the room was what looked to be a doorframe. He hadn't noticed it there before. The clanging noise sounded again. Someone was trying to get in.

His heartbeat grew faster, so loud he thought he could hear it echo off the walls. His curiosity combined with his fear was overpowering. For a brief moment he thought it might be the aliens again, that they had changed their minds about letting him live.

A mechanism in the door clicked, and there was a jet of steam as the pressure released in the door, pulling the two sides apart.

The light was blinding after spending so long in darkness. He threw his hands over his eyes trying to shade them, but the light still leaked through his fingers. He sat cringing on the floor of his cage; for a few seconds it was too bright to see.

His hearing wasn't offended by the sudden change of light at all, and as he sat with his eyes buried in his hands, he could hear the sound of boots walking through the doorway, magnified by the large chamber. The boots came only past the doorway and paused, and behind it came the sound of enormous feet striking the floor.

"Alright, let's start with the pile in the corner," a low, commanding voice rang out. The voice didn't have the jarring accent that most aliens had; it sounded human.

There was a grunt and the heavy pair of feet trudged across the room to the pile that had stood right beside Tai's cage. He could hear the shifting of metal and other such objects as they were lifted and carried out by the owner of the heavy feet. Slowly, Tai began to unveil his eyes.

The room was filled with a stream of light from the door. Standing near the doorframe was the figure of a man, not alien but human. As Tai blinked the form of the man came into focus. He didn't look far out of his thirties; he had a hard, rectangular nose and stubble on his chin. Gray eyes squinted beneath dark black eyebrows. The man's extremely sort inky-black hair was hidden under a rather ratty looking cap. His outfit was very plain and covered his entire body, the pants tucked into a pair of worn leather boots. He was wearing black gloves with the fingers torn off. A cord necklace hung around his neck, the pendant hidden under his shirt. He might have seemed like any guy, if it wasn't for the rather strange string of numbers tattooed on his left wrist, peeking out under the fabric of his sleeve.

"Now, there's no need to be so glum, Rifien," the man said, rubbing his arms as he looked up past the brim of his cap at the alien, who was a good deal taller. "It's lunch break in a minute. All we've got is the last of it here," (he swept his hand to indicate the cage and a small pile) "and then we're done."

The alien contorted his face into a grimace. "Humans are so easily reassured," he said in a harsh, growling voice.

"Don't get me wrong," the man said as they began to walk over to the cage. "I'm not saying I enjoy this or anything." Rifien gave a derisive snort of disbelief. The man cocked an eyebrow at the alien. "Get that, will you?" he said, pointing to the lid of the cage. The alien grunted and walked, and, to Tai's amazement, pulled the lid cleanly away. Tai curled up, his eyes darting back and forth between Rifien and the man. The man stood over the cage and looked down at Tai, watching him for a second until Tai looked up, his eyes pure black. "Hey, kid," the man said with a half-smile. Tai was confused by his expression, unable to read his eyes.

With a sigh the man looked back to Rifien. "Alright, let's get 'im out of here." The alien made a gesture reminiscent of a nod and reached for Tai. Panicked, Tai attempted to dart out of the way. Something tugged on the collar of his shirt and he lunged against it, hitting the floor of the cage. The man cursed as Tai scrambled, looking for an opening. "Woah there! Relax, kid! Rifien, the hell are you doin'?"

The alien growled in annoyance. In a flash, one of his enormous hands curled around Tai's neck and slammed him back against the wall, holding him in place. Tai gagged and clawed at the alien's fingers. With the other hand Rifien flipped open a collar shackle, his grip on Tai loosening just long enough to snap it around the boy's neck. He pushed Tai towards the other man, who pulled Tai's arms back and shackled them. He stood in the center of the cage, gasping for air, knees shaking. The muscles in his back strained painfully against the dead weight of the shackles.

"Ah, there! Not so bad, is it?" the man exclaimed. Tai glared over at him. He grinned back. "You're gonna want to save that energy, kid."

Rifien hissed. "They must have been desperate if this is all they could find." He tugged on the collar chain and Tai stumbled forward against the front of the cage.

The numbered man swung at the alien with his cap. "Knock it off, huh? Let's go." He replaced the cap and headed for the door, picking up a few boxes as he passed.

The alien frowned. He tugged on the chain again so that Tai was forced to try and step out of the cage – which proved difficult without hands. Impatient, Rifien grabbed the boy and pulled him out. He had barely begun to get his balance back when the chain went taut again and he was lead towards the door.

They were in a docking ring attached to the ship, of which Tai could only see the massive side. Leaving the tunnel they came into an average sized room, the floor strewn with the cargo from the ship. Several workers picked and carried over the cargo to an elevator. Rifien and Tai stopped next to the man, who was conversing with one of the workers in an alien tongue. After a brief exchange of words the worker left and the man turned to Rifien. "He says they're clearing a space on floor three."

The alien scowled but didn't object as the three headed over to the circular lift. Rifien pulled the boy into the elevator, and with a lurch that made Tai's heart hit the floor, they rocketed upwards.

They had only been in the lift a matter of seconds when it slammed to a halt, throwing Tai forward a bit. He choked and let out a long, low stream of curse words, at which the alien Rifien merely smirked. The door of the lift revolved open and Tai looked up.

He was looking out at a central marketplace. The immense room was filled with flashing neon lights and signs. Decrepit structures were erected here and there with the largest variety of what could only be described as junk that Tai had ever seen. The room was filled with the sounds of bartering, yelling, laughter, and a haunting sort of alien music that made Tai's skin crawl. He had never seen so many different sorts of creatures in his life, and he noted, with some despondence, that most of them didn't look remotely friendly. Most of them slung around a weapon of some sort, and he heard laser-fire far off. There was a roar and several cheers and then everything went back to normal again. Tai gaped, suddenly wishing he were back in the silence and safety of the cargo hold.

Rifien jerked the chain and they set off into the crowd, Rifien and the man pushing their way through. Tai felt a pang of regret that they couldn't have just stayed in the elevator. The noise and business of the scene was deafening, and as they made their way through the crowd some of the aliens turned to leer at him. Some laughed as he passed, saying foul things in alien languages. His face flushed and his stomach twisted into knots. The crowd pressed around, staring and jeering. Humiliated, he lowered his head and tried to hide behind Rifien, though it could not block out the noise and the prickly weight of dozens of eyes.

Finally the bustle of the center started to die off a bit, the lights thinning, the noise becoming more distant. Tai looked up to see that they were coming into a less traveled part of the station. It was dreary and lacked the excitement and luster of the marketplace. In the far wall was a huge opening that went from the floor to the ceiling, no door but a crackling forcefield separating the corridor from the room beyond. Two short, burly guards stood at the top of the steps by the door, talking to one another in deep, low voices. The wall next to the door had words painted by it in an alien script.

The guards caught sight of the little caravan approaching and turned. One of the guards brought up his weapon and advanced towards the three.

"What's your business?" the guard grunted.

"Shipment from port five," the man replied. "We commed up earlier for clearance."

The guard seemed to think for a moment. "That's right. I remember." The guard stepped down to look at Tai. Tai scowled at him, but the alien just gave him a knowing smirk. "Another human kid?" the alien said, but he was looking up at the man. The man nodded and the alien backed off, much to Tai's relief. The alien's piercing red gaze was unnerving.

"There's a cell empty nine down on the right, first floor."

"Thanks," the man replied, and with a flicker the forcefield disabled long enough for Rifien and the man to bring Tai through.

The inside was even drearier than the outside. There was hardly much light at all, with the exception of a blue and purple glow from the forcefields that barred the hundreds of cells. All along the corridor, and up above, Tai could see many more floors higher up all lined with cells. As they passed he stole glances inside the other cells, where he saw a variety of aliens and the occasional human, some sleeping, others leering back at him. They came to the cell. It was large; it could easily hold three or four people. The man went up and pressed in a code in the keypad next to the door. The forcefield shimmered and died.

The man turned back and put a hand around Tai's neck. The shackle clicked and fell to the floor, while the man removed the shackles from Tai's wrists. He smiled and stepped back. "Come on, kid, in you go."

His muscles burned from the strain of the shackles, and for a moment Tai just stood there, massaging his neck, knees shaking. With a smirk the man grabbed Tai by the arm. He led Tai inside the cell to a bench sticking out of the far wall, sitting him down on it. Tai felt some gratitude for this stranger and his hospitality, small though it was. The man stood for a moment as Tai sat on the bench. "Well, see you, kid." And the man turned and left. With a grin, Rifien turned and followed, the forcefield springing back up. He was alone.

* * *

_He looked slowly around. It was not a place he recognized at all. It was damp and dreary, the air filled with an eerie silence that gave it a haunting feeling, the misery and despair of thousands of lives. Cale stood in a dilapidated hall, staring at the endless row of fenced-off doorways on either side. Looking up, the line of cells stretched into oblivion above him. This place gave Cale a despondence that chilled his soul. He began to walk past the cells, looking in them, searching._

_He stopped. He was looking inside a large, empty cell. Not quite empty, for it had one occupant. A scrawny looking figure stood curled up on the end of a bench sticking out of the wall. The boy's skin was pale, almost ghostly white. His brown hair was disheveled and matted with oil, and his face looked sickly. Cale looked on this boy with pity, but also with a strange feeling of recognition._

_Tai?_

_Cale leaned closer, practically pressing his face against the field. The boy turned his head, his haunting black eyes piercing Cale's own. A sense of horror seized Cale but he didn't move. The boy's eyes had a pleading, hopeless look, deadened with despair. "Cale…"_

"Cale!"

His eyes snapped open. The room was dark, but a light had been flicked on outside in the hall, illuminating part of the room. Tek stood there, still in his clothes. Cale hadn't seen Tek look this worried in a long, long time.

"Cale! Wake up!" Tek said impatiently, shaking his shoulder with a clawed hand.

"Wah?" Cale said sleepily. "Can't it wait till morning?"

"It _is_ morning, Cale," Tek replied. "I have spent the past few hours making calls. No one has seen Taylor. And he hasn't come home."

Cale sat bolt upright. "What? Are you sure?"

Tek nodded. Cale could see heavy rings under his eyes; Tek hadn't gotten sleep in almost a day now. "I'm positive, I've checked with as many people as I could, and called around to all the places I thought he could have gone, no one has seen any trace of him."

Cale felt his heart sink into his stomach. "Tek, there must be someone…"

Tek shook his head.

Cale felt an edge of panic coming on. "Tek, what if…"

Tek waved a clawed hand as if to wipe away the thought. "Let's not jump ahead. What is important right now is staying calm… I think it would be best to check the city, since at least we know he went there."

Cale nodded his head in agreement. Tek was right. Best not to panic. It was not like this was the first time Tai had been out for more than a few hours, but this was different… there was something tugging at the back of his mind that told Cale it was more than that. And then there was the dream…

"Tek, what if something really bad happened to him?"

Tek shook his head and wouldn't reply. "Hurry and get dressed and we'll set off for the city right away… perhaps Iji won't notice us leave, if we are quiet."

Cale sighed. "Alright."


	6. Chapter V - Broken Promises

Above the bench was a window. It was a small, square window, in every sense ordinary. On the outside, it held no secrets; its silent pane stood inky black, reflecting the endless space outside, speckled with dots of white, globs of hope far away. _Which of these dots is my home?_ He hadn't any idea how far he was from home, or if, indeed, "far" was a long enough word to cover the distance. So eventually he abandoned that window's pane for his own, with a promise not to revel the secret it hid.

It was always cold here, and whether by some unseen force or simply mutual despair, his cell was always silent. His clothing, thin and dirty and now as haggard and worn as his own spirit, was of no company and did not withhold the creeping chill of metal and space. He mostly sat on the floor, legs crossed, eyes staring before him. He had tried to get through the forcefield, but it held fast, and in the end all he got were bloody knuckles and a dampened spirit.

After several hours of this it came as quite a shock, as he woke from a dreamless doze, that the field had disappeared. The silence left with it, and he could hear the sound of laughter. Drawn to it, he peered around the boundary of his cell.

Out in the middle of the hallway stood a circle of small figures, thin and dressed in the same bland apparel he had seen the man in the day before. They were kicking around something small and round, much like a bundle of hard rags torn and sewn back together. He realized these kids were human, of and around his own age

Taylor had known of no one else besides Cale since the end of Earth. He had never seen another human his age, not even during all those years on the lonely, desolate planet of Vusstra. Cautiously, he stepped out of the cell.

A small boy with dark brown skin was the first to notice him. With a cry, he stirred the others from their game, and now Tai could feel the weight of five pairs of eyes cast solely on him.

From within the silent group, clutching the rag ball, stepped forward a boy, probably only a year older than Tai. He was tall and thin from a long time spent without sufficient food, but he still had a slight build, and the muscles in his arm twitched as they spun the ball slowly around. His long, dirty blonde hair hung down into dulled blue eyes. Something within the face of this boy showed a restless and hardened spirit, cocky and untamed, but no longer alight with the levity of childhood innocence. The boy sauntered over so he was within a cautious few feet from Tai, but still clinging to the ring of safety.

He spoke, an air of casualty to his voice. A white fire of curiosity danced in his solemn ocean eyes. "You new?"

At first Tai couldn't speak. Already alienated by their distrusting stares, he did not want to sink further into their doubt. But the eyes of the older boy haunted him, and after a long pause he finally replied. "…Yeah, I am."

The ball spun and twirled as the boy grinned at Tai, revealing swollen gums and worn teeth. Something about that grin made him step back a bit; the boy knew something, something Tai didn't. Something Tai didn't want to know.

Tucking the ball under one arm, the boy held out a calloused hand. "Name's Rivin. Welcome to the club." Tai doubted he wanted to be a member, but he shook the boy's hand anyway.

"So, where are you from?" the boy asked as he tossed the ball back to the group. The others began to play again, though still casting sidelong glances at Tai.

Tai hesitated. "Vusstra," he replied.

"Oh?" the boy said with genuine interest. "You live on that dump of a planet? Or lived, I should say." The grin returned for a moment.

Tai wanted to point out he shouldn't be calling anywhere a dump in his state, but thought better of it. "I did. Since I was five."

"Who with? Family?" Rivin asked, tone laced with disbelief.

"No, I lost my parents…" (The boy muttered something, but Tai just went on) "A Vusstran named Tek adopted me, and my friend, Cale Tucker-" But he was unable to continue, as the field at the end of the hall had just deactivated, and through it stepped a group of alien guards. The kids scattered, so fast Tai could not see where they went as they darted to their hiding places. All that was left in the hallway was Taylor; the wretched ball, left forgotten before them; and Rivin, standing tall next to Tai, a grim smile splitting his hard face, both hands stuck casually into his pockets. Tai, with nowhere to go and nothing to lose, stood where he was.

The aliens lumbered up until they were within feet of Tai and Rivin. The alien in the middle contorted his slimy face into a sneer as its eyes drifted back and forth between the human adolescents. The alien pointed a questioning claw at Rivin. "You, huuuman." The alien paused to grab the boy's left hand out of his pocket, glancing down at the numbers etched on the wrist. "342651. What are you doing outside your cell?"

Rivin just smirked and wrenched his hand back, raising an eyebrow at the claw. "I believe the question you should be asking is 'Why is not the security system efficient enough to hold in a weak, pathetic huuuman?'" Rivin mocked. Several of the guards bared their teeth, but the alien just smiled, malice glinting in its eclipsed red eyes.

"Foolish." The alien spat. "Very foolish, Human. You will pay dearly this time." Tai could see some of the color flicker out of Rivin's face at this, but his jaw was still set. He said nothing. Satisfied, the alien turned his head to glare at Tai. He paused to take in Tai's tattered, dirty clothing. "You, Human, who are you?"

"He's a newcomer," Rivin said, answering for Tai. "He had nothing to do with it."

"QUIET," the alien snapped at Rivin. Nevertheless, he looked at Tai with a grin. "New, hmm, Human?" he said, addressing Tai once more. "Well, hopefully you find your stay… what is that human word… pleasant? Yes, pleasant." He laughed, more of a wheezing sound. "But trust me, it won't be long."

* * *

Cale sat with his feet propped up on the bench, turned towards the window. The bus seats were hard and uncomfortable, especially this early in the morning, but he didn't even think of the discomfort. His hazel gaze was lost outside the window, watching the suburban landscape rush by, as the thoughts rushed by in his head. He sat listening to the low-pitched rumble of the bus' engine, the only sound besides Tek's occasional mumblings. Cale said nothing. He pulled his sweatshirt sleeves over his hands and brought up his shoulders, so his head was cushioned in the folds of the hood.

Tek brought his eyes off the holoscroll he was reading and looked over at Cale's hunched form. Outside, Dawn was just starting to wake, lifting her golden head from behind the horizon and stretching forth her arms to the heavens. Even on the pollution-ridden Vusstra, the sunrise did not lose its momentary enchantment. Tek sighed, wrestling with his thoughts, trying to think of something to say to his foster-son.

"What's on your mind?" Tek said to Cale's back. Cale did not answer. Tek lifted his head a bit more. The boy was no longer looking out the window but staring at his hands. He had taken them out of the sleeves, and was now twirling a golden ring in his fingers. Looking at the ring gave Tek a pang of nostalgia. He turned away.

"Tek," Cale muttered, still staring down at the ring. "Why didn't he come back?"

Tek was puzzled for a moment. "Who?"

"My father. Why didn't he come back?"

He hesitated, searching for the right thing to say. "I don't know."

Cale was silent for a moment. "He promised. He promised we'd see each other again." He half whispered it, as if to himself.

Tek heard. "Well, sometimes promises just can't be kept. Every once in awhile, certain circumstances can come in the way of a promise, circumstances beyond control…"

"I know that," Cale snapped, exasperated, enclosing the ring in his clenched fist. "It's just… he left me with a big promise, and I thought he would see it through. But it's been almost ten years since that day, and…" Cale drifted off.

"Cale, you cannot blame your father for everything. Just because he wasn't able to keep his promise to you, doesn't mean he doesn't love you. He left because he loved you. Does that make sense? He loved you so much he wanted you to be safe, and for him, that meant paying any price."

"Awful price to pay," Cale muttered. "Losing your son completely." He shoved the ring on his finger and looked out the window once more. Speechless, Tek looked away.

* * *

"Another cold, lonely day in Loserville."

Cale stood outside the station, looking up at the silhouettes of the tall city buildings above him. Daylight had not yet penetrated the structures, and Cale's face was gray and pale in his heavy, oversized sweatshirt. He had his hands shoved in his front pocket, but it didn't help much. He was still cold, and he stood shivering in the morning glow as he waited for Tek to hurry out of the station.

It wasn't a very busy morning. Vusstrans of all sorts came filing out of the station randomly, going about their own way as usual on such a morning. The streetlights were still glowing an eerie, choking yellow, and various signs tacked to the sides of buildings flickered their ads and marqueed headlines. The air was stuffy, clogging Cale's lungs. He coughed and a puff of white smoke came from his mouth. _Great. Leave me out here as I freeze to death, Tek._ He didn't quite understand city dwellers. The excitement of it wore off quickly. It was a very dark and gloomy place to be, not at all to Cale's liking.

Just as Cale was starting to get irritated, Tek came stumbling out of the station, clutching his bag. With a heavy sigh of relief, Cale turned and watched, amused, as Tek caught up with him.

"Whoa there, pops," Cale said, holding out a hand to grab Tek by the shoulder as he came panting to a halt. "Slow down, you'll hurt yourself."

Tek wrinkled his trunk in a defensive gesture. "Hmm, now, no need for that this morning," he wheezed. "You will be old yourself one day too, my boy, and then just you try to joke about it."

Cale grinned. "Old. Hah. That'll be the day, when I'm running around like you, Tek." Tek glared. Cale felt the sudden need to change the subject. "Anyway!" he waved a hand at the intersection before them. "Which way do we go? Assuming you know the way, of course." Cale raised an eyebrow.

Tek made a sound deep in his throat. "Of course I know the way!" he said, as if Cale had tried to really insult him. "We go straight down that road there." He pointed in front of them.

"Well then, we can't stand here all day, now, can we?" Cale said cheerily. "You can sit here and take a breather, old man, but I'm off." With that, he hurried off across the street, dodging a hovercar as he ran; much to the annoyance of the driver, who shouted many obscene things at the boy before finally driving off again. Tek shook his head and tottered after Cale.

* * *

They were standing in front of a tattered looking shop. Cale was surprised they found it at all. They had gone in circles at least three times before finding it; all the shops in this area of town looked alike, and if it wasn't for the dust-covered sign in the window, they might have mistaken it for another useless junk store - which was probably what it was, anyway. Cale raised an eyebrow at the dark window and the weatherworn door.

"You sure this is it?" he asked the alien.

Tek bobbed his head. "Yes, this is the one. I'm almost certain. It's the only place that still sells paper books." He looked down at a little directory he held folded over neatly in his clawed hands and looked back at the storefront.

Cale rolled his eyes. "Well, we might as well check it out, at least." Taking the initiative, he walked up to the door and pushed it open with one hand. A little bell rang as he stepped inside, and Tek hurried after. The door closed behind them with another little chime.

The dust made Cale sneeze. The store was small and dingy, with aisles of shelves stacked in untidy rows on either side of him. Some of the contents on the shelves looked as if they had long since passed their shelf lives. The store was dark, with the exception of a row of lights along the middle of the ceiling, glowing dim. Up front was a counter, an ancient computer monitor sitting on its top. The shop was silent and very, very empty.

Cale wrinkled his nose as he walked up to the counter, Tek following. He set his hands on the top, the only thing properly dusted in the whole place. He craned his head to try and see through a doorway in the back. "Hello?" he called. The sound rang through the small shop. There was no answer. He turned to look at Tek and shrugged. "Guess no one's here." Tek looked skeptical. He and Cale turned to go just as a voice hailed them from behind the counter.

"Hello? May I help you?"

Cale swiveled around. A drab gray Vusstran stood behind the counter, his wrinkled skin dotted with spots of forest green. His blue eyes gave them a piercing look. His hands were clutching an oily towel, which he was using to try and clean his hands.

Cale walked back up to the counter. The Vusstran looked him up and down, curiosity and skepticism on his alien face. "Yes, umm," Cale coughed. "My name is Cale Tucker, and I was wondering if you umm," The shopkeeper raised an eye ridge. Cale went on in a rush. "I was wondering if you saw a boy like me come in yesterday… he's a bit taller than me, uh, brown hair, brown eyes."

The Vusstran gave him another sweeping glance. "A human, you say?" the Vusstran croaked. He paused. "Yes, I saw him. Came in my shop early last afternoon."

Cale's heart leapt. "Did you see where he went?"

The shopkeeper frowned, and his hands stopped twisting the towel. His eyes darted nervously. "Well, no, not precisely."

"But you saw him come in?"

"Yes, yes. This group had come in my shop just before he came, shouting and making all kinds of havoc, scaring away my customers, yes." Cale doubted the shopkeeper had many customers, but he didn't dare interrupt. "So I had gone in the back hoping they'd leave, when I looked and saw the boy come in. Couldn't do anything to help him, of course, and it's not like he knew they were in there." The alien seemed to be talking more to himself now. "Yes. Couldn't help him. Terrible shame."

Cale's face paled a bit. "What are you talking about? What did they do to Tai?"

The alien blinked. "Tai, was that his name? Oh! Yes, him. I remember him. Nice young boy, always coming in my shop and saying hello. My best customer. Lots of talent, that boy had. Shame."

He felt himself growing irritated with this guy. "Yes, but _what is a shame?_ "

"That they took him, of course!" The alien exclaimed. "Saw them carry him out, jeering and making all kinds of noise. Half the block must have heard. Shame. Grateful it got them out of my shop though."

Cale had gone white now, and did not say anything. Seeing his distress, Tek took up the conversation. "Where did they take him?"

The alien shrugged. "Beats me, I certainly didn't follow them! Those slavers are a nasty bunch, don't want to get caught up with them, no." The alien dropped off again, shaking his head. "Shame."

* * *

Cale stormed out of the shop. He hadn't been this angry or hurt in a long time. It made him think of his father, which only made him more upset.

He stopped in the middle of the street, looking around for something on which to take out his rage. Seeing a dormant hovercar parked near the shop, he stormed over to it, slamming his fists down on the hood with a satisfying THUNK. His head was pounding and the rage flooded his eyes, blinding him.

Tek came stumbling out of the shop as Cale began to kick at the wall. " _Cale!_ " Tek shouted. Cale gave the wall one last belligerent kick and threw himself on the ground, fuming. "What do you think you're doing? There's no reason to act like that."

Cale sat with his legs crossed, breathing heavily, blood trickling down his hand. He couldn't think. The combination of guilt and fear and anger jammed his thoughts, and he could think of nothing else but inflicting as much damage as possible. Tek hovered above him, unsure of what to do. Cale shivered like a bomb counting down.

"What do you mean, 'there's no reason to act like that'?" Cale growled. "There's every reason. Every damn reason in the world."

"Cale…"

"He's gone, Tek!" Cale shouted. "Gone! Don't you see that? We'll never get him back, never!"

Tek just blinked, hesitant.

Cale went on, shaking violently, his eyes watering. "I should have gone, Tek. I should have gone with him. It's all my fault."

Tek shook his head and kneeled down beside Cale, grabbing his shoulders. Cale's head was bowed, his fists clenched and his face contorted, torn between sorrow and anger. Every once in awhile he shook with a sob. "Cale, it is not your fault. _It is not your fault._ Had you gone with him, it would have been both of you."

"That would have been better than him alone! You don't understand. Tai was like… like my brother." He twisted his ring on his finger. "Tai was the only one who never broke a promise to me. And now I've broken my promise with him… I promised he'd be safe, that he'd be okay."

Tek sighed. "Listen to me. Taylor means just as much to me as he does to you. You may not believe that, but he does. And I promise you we will get him back. That may be another broken promise, but we've got to try, Cale. You can't give up."

Cale was silent, the anger flowing out of his body. "He doesn't deserve it," he said quietly. "He is the last person to deserve it… it's hopeless. He could be anywhere; we don't even know where they took him, where they came from. He could be anywhere." He paused, breathing deeply. "But you're right, Tek. I'm not my father. I don't abandon my family."

Tek frowned as Cale lifted himself off the pavement, cradling his bloody knuckles in his arms. He swayed out of reach of Tek's open arms, turned and started walking off the way they had come, head bowed. Daylight came creeping through the skyscrapers, touching the street with a pale glow. Cale stepped into the day with only his hope and a resolution to drive him.


	7. Chapter VI - Nicknames

The tiny tower swayed on its unstable edges, small colored blocks stacked in a jumbled arrangement. A small, trembling hand reached up towards the top, clutching a new block. "Almost… there…" the Vusstran girl muttered between clenched teeth. The block neared the top… closer… closer…

SLAM.

The tower gave one last jerk and fell, crumbling into dozens of little pieces. She blinked down at the pile in surprise, still clutching the block where the top of the tower used to be. The sound of heavy footsteps hurtling up the stairs could be heard outside the room. Putting down the block, Iji hopped over to the doorway and peered outside just as a red and blonde blur went speeding past. She fell back on the floor with a shriek.

"CALE!" she cried. She scrambled to her feet and hurried out the room to the next, where the blonde-haired boy was busy up heaving the already disarrayed room. "What's the rush? What's going on?"

The boy heaved a knapsack out of the top shelf of the closet, throwing it down on the bed. "We're leaving, Iji," he said as he shoved a shirt and a blanket into the knapsack.

Iji stood looking perplexed in the doorway. "Leaving? Where? Why?" she said with an edge of panic.

"I don't know. But we're going to find Tai. I don't know how long we'll be gone…" He threw more stuff into the knapsack, not even looking at what it could be.

"Tai hasn't come back yet? Where is he?"

Cale hesitated. "He's… we don't know where he is. That's why we're leaving."

"I'm going too, right?"

Cale spun around. "No. You're staying here. It's too dangerous." He swung the knapsack on his shoulder and headed out the room, pushing past the flustered Iji.

"What? No! I want to go with you!" she moaned, stumbling after Cale as he launched himself down the stairs.

As Cale went to clear the last step, his foot suddenly slipped out from under him. Grabbing onto the stair rail, he jumped aside to see what he had stepped on. Looking down he saw a small book with a hard paper cover, now wrinkled. Puzzled, Cale bent to pick it up, looking the book over and flipping through the pages. It was filled with sketches of various sizes and stages: drawings of scenery, Earth animals, Cale and Iji. There were some drawings of grotesque monsters, fighting, bleeding. "Tai's sketchbook…" he whispered to himself. Thinking of Tai pained him, so he shoved the sketchbook quickly in his knapsack as he headed towards the kitchen.

Tek was just as busy as Cale was, bustling around the kitchen writing notes, leaving messages and making arrangements. Cale jogged into the dining room, throwing the knapsack down on the table. "I'm ready!" he called to Tek, who was putting on a jacket and carrying a similar bag, like a briefcase.

"Alright, then, everything's settled. I've booked us a shuttle leaving in about an hour, I called and told the lab I'd be gone for about a week or two, I've made arrangements for Iji to stay at the neighbors'…"

"No!" Iji had just skidded into the kitchen, panting, her alien face contorted into a mixture between frustration and horror. "No, I'm coming with you!"

"Iji…" Tek started to say in an undertone, but Iji cut him off.

"You _always_ leave me behind! I want to come with this time!" Cale and Tek just gave her apprehensive stares. Seizing the moment, Iji hurried on, talking faster and faster, afraid of missing a second. "Please? I promise I'll be good, I won't get in the way or anything, I won't make a peep I swear if that's what bothers you I'll be quiet as a…"

"Alright! Alright!" Tek cried in exasperation, throwing up his hands. "Fine, you can come with us. But you have five minute."

With a squeal and a jump, Iji scrambled out of the kitchen and back up the stairs. Cale grinned after her, and Tek sighed.

* * *

He was alone again. He sat on the bench rubbing his left wrist, which still stung from the tattoo they had torn into his skin. Not at all an appealing marking, but a short string of numbers – 359172 – similar to the one he had seen on Rivin's wrist. Thinking of Rivin made his stomach turn.

Rivin had kept that drawn look on his face all the way up until the two separated. Taylor kept catching glimpses of Rivin looking around with an odd sort of smile as they walked. What became of Rivin, he didn't know, but screams of pain echoed all through the hall, making Tai's ears ring and his heart clench. Tai's alien escort snickered. It was in this moment the full reality of his situation hit him like an anvil to his consciousness. He lost touch for a while, hardly noticing as he was led into a small room and given his number. He didn't come crashing back to reality until the alien smacked the back of his head, hissing for him to pay attention, lest the needle miss.

Not for the first time, Tai found himself thinking of home, which seemed very far away now. He just dimly remembered it… he had had so many homes already, and all of them snatched away from him without a backward glance. The word "home" lost its meaning to Tai. For now this place was his home: the secluded cold cell, the pain and the sorrow – but he knew even that wouldn't last long. And where from there? He curled up on the bench and buried his face in his arms, withdrawing into the corner. His chest heaved as he silently sobbed, knowing no one in this whole universe could hear him anyway, or care.

Somewhere outside his consciousness he heard the door of his cell deactivate for a pause and then reactivate. Tai didn't look up. Heavy footsteps stepped past the door and stopped in the center of the room. Tai raised his head to look up, eyes narrowed. Above him stood the man from the cargo hold... Tai pushed himself further into the corner with a feral grimace. The man blinked with surprise, but didn't make any move backwards. He raised his hands palm-out in front of him. "Hey, woah… not going to hurt you, see?" he said.

Tai gave him one skeptical look and shoved his face back in his arms, not saying a word in response. The man put his hands down and came tentatively closer. Gradually Tai began to feel the man staring in the back of his mind. With a snap he looked up at the man, who was now kneeling down by the bench, smirking.

"You weren't crying, were you?"

He was taken aback. "Of c-course not," he snapped, though he couldn't suppress a sniff as he turned away.

The man just smiled. "Good. Because you're too old to cry."

Tai turned his head to glare at the man. "What are you doing here?" he growled.

The man smirked. "Excuse me? I believe this is _my_ cell you are in. I should be asking why _you_ are here."

Tai narrowed his eyes and turned away, trying to break from that silver gaze. As bitter as he was, he reflected on the man's question, but in the end couldn't come up with an answer. "I don't know why I'm here," he mumbled. With a pang of annoyance he felt the man sit down across from him.

The man looked puzzled, but amused. "You mean, you don't remember…?"

Tai waved his hand. "No, of course I remember…" Not knowing what possessed him, whether it was the nostalgia or the longing to speak, he began to tell the man everything he could remember, from the day the Earth was destroyed to his last moment on Vusstra. The man never interrupted Tai as he spoke; his attention never waived for a moment. Tai was grateful for his company, for a human face to speak to. When he finished talking there was a long silence, and a question surfaced in Tai's mind. "Why did you help me?" Tai asked.

The man was thrown off for a second. He paused, trying to grapple for an answer; finding none, he sighed, avoiding Tai's gaze. "Oh, I don't know. Just felt like it."

Tai frowned. Seeing he was not satisfied, the man went on, exasperated. "Because I know how it feels kid, okay? To be treated like a piece of shit. I've been passed from place to place so fast my head is still spinning. I've seen so many faces; I've watched them all come and go, knowing I could do nothing about it. _Nothing_." The man seemed to be in a full-fledge rant now; interested in what he had to say, Tai did not dare interrupt as he went on. "You don't know what it's like to sit and watch them die. Not physically, but spiritually. I see it in their eyes... I see it in yours." He glanced just for a brief moment at Tai and then looked away. "I've seem them fight, but they all give in, in the end. They're all sold in the end, they all die. That's the fuck of it. You can fight all you want, but no matter how much you fight it, they'll bring you down anyway. And there's not a damn thing you can do about it."

He lapsed off for a moment, staring down past his hands.

Tai gave the man an appreciative look. "Who are you?"

At this the man smiled. "268389. Though if by that you mean my name, then you can call me Steele. That's the nickname they gave me, though I don't really approve of it myself." He shrugged. "And while we're on the subject, who are _you_ , kid?"

Tai smiled, clasping his wrist. "My name's Tai. That's the nickname he gave me a long time ago, though I don't really approve of it myself..."


	8. Chapter VII - Bullets

Fifteen hours, six stops, two quarrels and an empty apology later, the three Vusstran travelers found themselves standing in the most desolate little spaceport in the Spiral Arm. The docking tunnels were so dusty that the first thing Cale did when he stepped out of the massive shuttle was sneeze so hard he tripped over Iji. Iji had been complaining all the while, amidst the endless mutters of discontent from Cale. Tek was silent.

The docking tunnels were only signs of what was to come.

The spaceport floors were unkempt and lined with various sorts of grime and dust. The lights were all yellowed and flickering, and there were holes of darkness everywhere a light had burnt out. There was no one around.

Cale rubbed his nose on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "This place is a _dump_ ," he sniffed.

Tek shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, I suppose you could put it that way..."

Iji clutched the small bag she had brought along. "I don't like it here at all," she whispered, "its dusty and dirty, and it smells funny."

Cale rolled his eyes. "Where is everyone? Why did you bring us here again, Tek?"

Tek blinked. "Hmm, well, I thought this would, perhaps, be the best place to look now…"

"Why's that?" Cale interrupted, toeing something crawling along the deck. It squealed and began to scramble away on ten spindly legs.

"Well," Tek began, waving with a clawed hand, "First of all, this… _dump_ … was at one point a large mine built on the asteroid we stand on. When the resources were depleted, the mine, and the small city that surrounds it, was abandoned. Can you guess what it's used for now?"

Cale blanched and took another look around. "Uh… a salvage yard?"

Tek chuckled. "No, but I suppose that's close enough. Actually, it's a sanctuary. This city's abandoned buildings now house all those who are lost, forgotten, outcast, or, above all, want to hide. I have heard that many runaways come here, and that is why I think we will have the most luck here. Perhaps someone can give us a hint of where to look."

Cale raised a dubious eyebrow. Iji shifted nervously. Unphased, Tek started walking off, humming to himself. With a glance at Iji, who was mouthing some words of disbelief, Cale started after Tek.

The rest of the abandoned city was much the same as the spaceport. The windows were all dark and barren in the hollowed out shells of buildings. A haunting breeze was blowing layers of soot and dust along the street. How anything or anyone could live here, Cale didn't know. He hadn't seen much in the ways of living things at all, though once in awhile he thought he could see the glint of eyes watching him, or he'd catch just glimpses of movement among the ruins. He stopped to peer into the rubble, trying to catch some hint of life. There was just silence.

It occurred to Cale he hadn't heard any of Iji's whining for a while now, and he could no longer see the form of his foster father skipping ahead. He was alone on an empty street. Cale hadn't even noticed he had strayed off. Worst of all, he had no idea where he was. Being alone in a colony full of outcasts and fugitives didn't feel like the most intelligent idea. As Cale stood there, trying to think of which way he had come and how to get back somehow, he felt something tap his shoulder. With a gasp, he spun around.

A woman stood there, not much taller than himself. She was clad in what once had probably been some sort of uniform, but was now dusty rags. She appeared to be in her forties, but her face was deeply lined, her skin a grayish color. Her eyes were thin and almond-shaped, and her irises were an endless void of black. Her long dark hair was matted and thin.

Cale stepped back, trying to catch up with his heart. He thought of turning and running, but something about the look on her face made him stay. Though worn, she looked very kind, and she smiled at him.

"Hello, young man," she said in a low melodic voice, which cracked every once in awhile. "Are you lost?"

Cale nodded, "I think so… I mean… I was just with two others not too long ago, but I, uh… guess I took a wrong turn… you seen them?"

The woman just smiled and didn't respond. Quite suddenly she said, "I have not seen you around here before… tell me, why are you here?"

Cale stared at her, and it was only then, as he looked her up and down once more, then he noticed something odd on her left wrist; a sort of black marking, a code of some kind, was engraved on her skin. The skin around the markings was white and uneven. Cale looked away.

"Well, actually, I came here hoping someone could help me… you see, a while ago my friend was… kidnapped. We have no idea where they might have taken him. I… well, we… were hoping that someone could… give us a hint where to look for him. We want him back."

The woman was silent, nodding her head. She watched as a tear flowed down his left cheek. All his pent-up grief, loneliness, and frustration had been put into that single teardrop, and as it flowed it took away the layer of soot and regret on is face. After a pause, the woman spoke again. Her eyes sparkled as she looked up at Cale again. "Truly amazing, how far the love of another person can take one, isn't it? You two must have a very valuable friendship, and I'm sure wherever your friend may be, he knows how lucky he is.

"As for where you should look... though much has probably changed since then, I still remember the name of the accursed place I was held. It was called the _Tyrad_ then, and I am sure the name hasn't yet changed from that. It's not too far from here. That is probably where you should look first."

Cale let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, it really means a lot… I wish I could repay you somehow…"

The woman shook her head, smiling. "Oh, no need… you just promise me one thing, alright, dear?"

"What's that?"

"Help him." The woman looked down at her wrist. "I never want another soul to go through what I went through. You find him, and help him."

Cale smiled. "I will. Thank you." He looked down at his feet, and when he raised his head again, the woman was gone. Cale looked around puzzled, and then sighed. From the end of the street behind him came the sound of footsteps, and Iji's voice calling to him. "Cale! There you are! Why did you run off? Tek and I were so worried, and Tek was going on and on about this and that, and I…"

Cale rolled his eyes and turned to join his pod sister and the approaching Tek. "Alright, well, here I am, aren't I?" Cale looked to Tek. "And I found something."

* * *

Tai sat against the wall on the bench, his arms behind his head. Steele and Tai had spent what seemed like hours just sitting and talking, and eventually Steele opened up and told parts of his own story to Tai.

He had once been in the army, part of the Global Defense corps that protected Earth in its last days. Before then he had just been the country boy from Texas, the punk who skipped High School so he could hang out with friends. Change only came after his girlfriend disappeared, leaving him alone with his young son. After the shock and confusion hit he joined the army, and drowned his sorrow and past in long marches and training as he transformed from punk to soldier. After hours he was dad; he cared for his son as he hadn't for his girlfriend, somehow believing he could make up for all the damage he had caused. His son was ten years old when the Earth was destroyed. The boy escaped, but the Drej destroyed the shuttle, along with many of Steele's comrades'. With Earth lost, and all that held his life together, Steele ran. Eventually he was salvaged one night as he lay half-dead in an alley and brought to the very station Tai sat in now, where spent the past few years as both worker and slave.

Steele was gone, called off on some errand Tai couldn't begin to guess. Tai had begun to enjoy Steele's company; at least they shared some similar experiences. In the few hours they spent together they grew to be very attached, as if Steele was the father Tai had lost and Tai was the son Steele had lost.

Thinking of time brought Tai to wonder just how much had passed. It seemed like decades ago since he was trudging along a lonely street in Vusstra, though it couldn't have possibly been that long. In the cycle of thought, darkness, and despair, he had lost count of the hours. He didn't know if it had been weeks or only a day or two since he was last free.

Which brought him to another thought, something he had ignored completely: however long it was, he couldn't remember at all the last time he had something to eat. With everything going on and all the thoughts inside his head, he hadn't noticed the gnawing feeling in his stomach. He groaned. Was there no food in this place? Surely the people here ate _something_.

He had only begun debating the manner when the door of his cell deactivated. Tai looked up, expecting to see Steele there. Instead it was the same burly, piggish guard Tai had run into not long ago when he met Rivin. Tai put the crumpled sneer on the guard's face together with the shackles the guard clasped in his right hand and felt his heart sink.

* * *

He squinted into the irises of blinding spotlights, climbing and clawing over each other to get the best view. All across the ceiling of the massive chamber, they shone down in feral anticipation and unblinking fascination. A sea of bodies writhed and flowed beneath the array of stinging neon script and brilliant white. The air was awash with alien tongues, chittering advertisements, laughter and swears. He squirmed, wishing he could cover his ears. His wrists tapped against the inside of the shackles, locked behind his back. Chains ran down to the shackles around his ankles, and into the ground. If he twitched too much in any direction, his balance wavered. Unable to move, unable to breathe under the weight of the noise and the light, he just stood and watched.

Spectators were milling about a large auditorium, looking over the newest stock. Tai watched most of them move right by, only pausing to sneer or make some remark in another language. His muscles shook from the weight of the shackles, but he lifted his chin as high as he could and sneered right back. If he craned his head, he could just see Steele standing not far away. He stood watching the crowd with a dull, distant look. Tai wondered how many times Steele had gone through this. There was a slight curl to Steele's lip as an alien came close, looking him up and down. Tai tried to stand up straight to see better, but the crowd shifted and blocked his view. He stared at their backs, frowning. Something moved out of the corner of his eye and he snapped his head back around.

There was a man standing in front of him. He was nicely dressed in a pressed old suit, and his greasy black hair had been slicked back over his balding skull. He wasn't much taller than Tai, but definitely broader. His browned, calloused hands spoke of a farmer more than an aristocrat. His chisel cut face was set into a calculating scowl, and his black eyes sized up Tai.

Tai gathered his strength to his chest and tried to match the man's strong glare. "What are you looking at?" he growled.

The thin line of his mouth twitched into a smirk. "Watch your tongue, boy, or I'll rip it out."

"With whose money?" Tai retorted.

The man's eyes sparkled with amusement. He stepped closer. His eyes strayed to Tai's side. He grabbed one of Tai's arms and pulled it out from behind him. Tai felt a sharp pain in his muscles as they strained against the pull of the shackles. He tried to wrench his arm away but the man held fast. "Thin, aren't you?" the man remarked. He squeezed Tai's arms, pulling at the muscles. "Bet you've done no real work in your life. No matter." He let Tai's arms fall back behind him. Tai winced. His hands moved to lift up Tai's shirt and Tai was hit with a wave of nausea and repulsion.

"How old are you, boy?" the man grunted, squeezing and poking at Tai's abdomen.

"Old enough not to be called 'boy'," he snarled. He jerked away from the man's cold fingers.

"Issat so?" The man sighed and let the shirt drop back. "At least you still got all yer organs…" he muttered. His hand fell and quickly pulled back the waist of Tai's pants. Flustered, Tai bent over as far as he could, trying to pull away. The man let go, grinning. "Yep, all of 'em." Tai felt his cheeks burn red. The man laughed and started to inspect Tai's face, pulling back his lips to examine his teeth and pulling open his jaw. Finally he stepped back, leaving Tai coughing. "Well boy, at least you ain't some used trash. That lip could use some adjustment, but that ain't hard to fix."

Tai shivered. The shackles felt heavier, pulling him down to the ground. "Fuck you," he spat.

The man grinned and turned away. Tai watched him go, sneering. The man disappeared into the crowd, and the sneer slid off Tai's face. Lethargy clouded his mind and his eyes drooped. Drained, he leaned against the wall behind him. His face still felt hot, his stomach was turning in circles, and his arms stung. The noise of the crowd started to drift together, and the ceiling slid, and he faded back into the recesses of his mind. He didn't look up again.


	9. Chapter VIII - To Whom It May Concern

He sat on the bench with his head titled back against the wall, eyes closed. Sitting on the bench at his feet was Steele. He gazed down at the floor, rubbing his knuckles, fighting a battle with his thoughts.

Steele crossed his arms and tilted his head to glance at Tai. "Hey… kid… you okay?"

Silence.

"Listen… if any of them… touched you…"

"It's okay, I'm fine."

Sigh. "I know you are."

Grin.

Steele buried his head in his hands. "I want you to know something, okay?"

Tai raised his head and glanced at Steele.

"A lot of shit is gonna happen soon… you probably know what I mean. I'm not really sure how all this is going to play out, and it may come to a point where I won't be able to stand by you. I just want you to know that…" He paused, grappling for the words. "Whatever happens… you're gonna be alright… understand?"

Tai blinked.

Steele shook his head, frustrated. "Oh, what am I saying… I was never good at this... here." Steele reached back and grabbed the back of the cord necklace, pulling it over his head. He held it out.

Reluctantly, Tai held out his hand. The necklace and the pewter pendent sank into his palm. Tai squinted as he studied the pendent he hadn't been able to see before. It was plainly old, and there were scratches all over the surface. The pendent was shaped like the thick outline of a circle. Inside the circle was the shape of a star. Along the outline was a scrawled line of engraved text, long since worn away.

He looked up at Steele, puzzled. Steele gave Tai a weak smile. "I want you to hold onto that. No matter what they do or say to you, there's one thing they can never take from you."

Tai slipped the necklace over his head, hiding it under his shirt. "What, this?"

"No. Hope, kid. It's hope."

* * *

He was rudely awoken the next morning to a gripping pain on his shoulder, shaking him violently. Startled, Taylor opened his eyes.

A grotesque alien face greeted his newfound sight. The alien's scarred face was split in a grin that made Tai sink into himself in fear, blood going cold. He sat bolt upright and backed against the wall. It was then his hearing came to him and he noticed the commotion going on.

Steele was yelling and being subdued by Rifien and another, much smaller alien who was looking over his shoulder anxiously. Tai could barely make out what Steele was saying; he appeared to be cursing in several languages. The door of the cell had been deactivated and beyond there was more turmoil as various guards and slaves shuffled pass, accentuated by various screams and yells. His eyes darted back to the alien before him, and it was only then he noticed the alien was clutching a pair of very rusted shackles in his clawed hand. Tai froze.

Steele burst back into common speech. "NO! He's just a kid, you can't do this!" " He gathered all his strength into one massive shove. The smaller alien backed off but Rifien redoubled his efforts, shoving Steele's face against the wall. Steele hissed with pain between clenched teeth.

"STEELE!" Tai yelled, clutching at the wall. "Steele, what's going on?"

The alien guard glanced around, smirking. He grabbed Tai out of the corner and flung him at the floor, catching Tai's arms and wrenching them behind his back as he snapped on the shackles. Tai gritted his teeth against the strain on his arms, eyes watering. "Didn't you know?" The alien hissed in Tai's ear. "The auction was last night."

His eyes widened. "No… NO!" With one strong thrust Tai threw himself forward, breaking from the alien's grip. He ran from the cell, tumbling through the doorway. As he flung himself into the crowded hall he lost balance, and slammed sideways down onto the deck. Panic and a terror were blinding him, filling his head with nothing but screams of despair and confusion. He lay cringing on the floor, not even attempting to pick himself back up and make another flight. It didn't take long for the alien guard to recover; he stormed into the hallway and pulled Tai off the floor, lifting him up by the chain, dragging him as he hung limp. The alien pulled Tai to his feet and shoved him along in front, always keeping a firm grasp on the chain. Tai was bent almost double in effort to keep himself on his feet. They soon came to the great doorway leading out of the compound, and the scene couldn't be any different from how Tai remembered it when he first arrived.

The crowd was massive, a frightening mix of guards, investors, people and aliens of all sorts on various business, slaves, and a mass of aloof bystanders attracted to the chaos. The air was thick with shouting, curses, arguments, screams, laughter, and chatter. The nausea of innumerable life forms crammed in such a small space, all with their assorted colors and noise, flowed over him in waves. Tai and his alien escort were soon lost in the crowd, and Tai constantly found himself being kicked or prodded. The faces were all a blur, there were so many, yet one caught his eye.

It was a boy about his age, facing away from him. He was covered in dust and dirt, and he held himself wearily, as if he hadn't gotten a chance to rest in a week. His short hair was an indescribable color; it looked like a very dirty blonde. The boy was arguing with one of the guards, who eyed the boy with distaste and disinterest.

"Please, you don't understand… I need to check…"

"I'm sorry, Human, but you are not allowed to enter the compound without proper clearance. I don't expect you participated in the auction?"

"No, but…"

"Then scram! Or you'll find _yourself_ inside a cell, if that's what you want!"

The boy turned away, muttering to himself, and that's when Tai caught a glance of his face. _Cale?_

"CALE!" Tai screamed, throwing himself against the chains. " _CALE!_ " But his screams were lost amongst the babble and noise of the crowd. He struggled against the shackles. No matter how hard he tugged on the chains he got nowhere. The alien pulled him back and clubbed him against the side of his face, and Tai stopped. Breathing hard, he looked up again, and Cale was gone. Blood slowly trickled down his face where the alien had hit him. With despair he let himself be forced away from the crowd. From there the scenery blurred, all attention switched off as he let himself be taken wherever they willed.

Eventually he was thrown into the cold dark of a cargo bay. Who the ship belonged to and where it was destined, he wasn't sure, and didn't care. His knees struck the metal and sent a wave of pain up through his body, jarring him back to reality. Then the light was gone, the door closed. Only dull, metallic blue lights along the top of the walls illuminated the bay. The light shone blue silver off the blood dripping down Tai's face, and on his hands, now free from the shackles but cut and swollen on the wrists where the shackles had been. The bay was silent. He crawled into a corner beside a stack of crates, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. Light shimmered off the back of hand as he pulled it away. Tears found their way out of his eyes, and he buried his face in his arms, curling up. His shoulders rose and fell in jerking sobs.

It was in this state that the watcher observed, two quick eyes the same blue silver color of the blood trickling down Tai's hand. She observed him from the safe dark of the opposite corner, eyeing him curiously, her soft face tilted to the side. Her long blonde hair hung like strands of spun silver from her head, flawed and imperfect with mats and dust. The watcher crept out of the shadows, cat-like across the floor, inquisitive, naïve. She pawed towards the weeping boy, until finally her presence sparked in the back of his mind and his head lifted up, eyes darting to meet hers.

What he noticed first about her were the eyes staring back into his own. They were not dull and lifeless like his own, nor somber and grey like that of Steele's, and certainly not spiteful and malicious like the taunting eyes of the alien guard. They were soft, reminding him of rain felt as a child back on Earth, cold clear rain that fell from the sky without any concern as to where fate should take them. Though her appearance was torn and filthy, her eyes were untouched by the horrors she had faced, and had yet to face. She looked at him with the genuine curiosity of a child, though nearly his age. Tai sat staring back into those eyes, his tears forgotten.

She hovered there, still crouched cat-like in front of him, watching the tears trickle down. She smiled. She crawled up next to Tai, turning around and nestling up against his side. She rested her head against his shoulder, her silver hair flowing down her chest. She looked up at him and closed her eyes. Slowly he relaxed, blinking down at the girl resting on his arm. One last tear fell down his cheek, splashing onto his knees. Content, the girl smiled. Softly she began to hum a slow tune, a lullaby Tai remembered from Earth.

" _Come away, oh human child_

_To the waters and the wild_

_With a faerie, hand in hand,_

_For the world's more full of weeping_

_Than you can understand..._ "


	10. Chapter IX - Pity for a Dime

Though the tremor was slight, it was enough to jolt Cale awake from his hesitant slumber. He shook and tilted his head up. Hazel eyes blinking sleepily, he met the familiar sight of neat rows of seats on either side of him, the pleasant cream glow of the lights along the ceiling reflecting off the walls. In a seat next to him Tek was sitting up attentively. Cale could feel the hum of the shuttle slowing to a stop. He stretched, narrowly avoid hitting Tek. There was a gentle thud as the shuttle parked, and the whining of the engines winding down. A soft, monotonic voice chimed in over an intercom, but no one listened; the shuttle passengers were standing up, stretching, grabbing their parcels and flooding the aisles to get off the shuttle. Tek stood up and Cale did so as well, but it was a long wait until they could make their way into the aisle and off the shuttle.

From the moment they exited the shuttle Cale knew this wasn't a first-rate planet. Which planet it was, Cale wasn't sure. It was somewhere on the outskirts of the Vusstran system, a little desert planet that was largely overlooked. Not many people came to live here, as the living conditions were rather unfavorable, the weather patterns were horrible, and most commodities had to be imported. Standing outside the station, Cale could see far down the road; the planet was underdeveloped outside the heart of the city. In front the skyline was flat, just sand and rocks stretching out into infinity; off to his right he could see a line of hills and mountains that made a belt, and engraved in the ground was a rough dirt road that branched off and led away into the horizon. Not far off he could see the tops of the dunes, which made a network of "walls". Many landowners built their plantations on the other side of them, since they kept out some of the wind. Above the horizon the sky was a tan color mixed with tinges of blue. Cale shifted where he stood on the dirt road as Tek came up alongside him.

It hadn't been Cale's idea to come to this place; it was more of a pit stop. Cale was accompanying Tek on a business trip to one of the planets on the inner portion of the system. The trip looped around the edges, and was long enough they had to switch shuttles. So they had chosen somewhere inconspicuous and out of the way. Cale hoped they wouldn't stay long; the air was thin and smelt like coal, and the sand threw up so much dust that he found himself constantly snuffling and sneezing.

Cale turned to Tek, who was staring blankly out towards the horizon. His eyes were clouded and grayed with cataracts. A recent accident at the salvage station _Tau-14_ , their new home, had left Tek completely blind. The Vusstran had started to adapt to his disability, but Cale still watched him with a careful eye. It had been Cale's idea, at least, to come along and make sure Tek made the trip unharmed.

"You got any idea where we're going to stay?" he asked, hands up, trying to pull down the sleeve of his shirt to cover his nose.

Tek set down the large piece of luggage he had been toting. "Yes, I've booked a room at a hotel in the city, though I dare say our check-in isn't for another two hours at least…"

"So we've got some time then? Great. I'm going to go see if there's anywhere to eat, I'm starved." He hesitated. "Are you gonna be alright by yourself?"

Tek waved off Cale's concern. "I'll be fine, go on, go on. I'll meet you back here in two hours." Cale smiled and strolled off, hands in his pockets. Tek was used to Cale wandering off on his own. He was eighteen now, capable of taking care of himself. Cale wasn't overconfident, but he wasn't worried about anything happening either. _Especially not on a junk like this_ , Cale thought with a wry smile.

He hadn't been walking far when he came upon a large building on the outskirts of the city. Coming closer he saw it was a diner; it was lined with large glass windows that looked out onto the landscape. He grinned. _Perfect._ Finally away from the greasy slop of the salvage station cafeteria, he was looking forward to a change of taste.

He came up to the door and pulled at the handle; the door was old and the hinges were jammed with sand, but he tugged it just enough to slip past and into the diner. It wasn't busy; there was a row of booths all along the left wall below the windows, with the counter and the kitchen in front along the right. Only a few booths were occupied, and the counter was empty; he couldn't see anyone behind it or in the kitchen. He looked for somewhere to sit. Cale eyed the occupied booths; he had come a long way and was hoping for someone to talk to. The characters he saw did not look inviting, but one booth caught his eye. It had only one occupant, a human boy like himself, about his own age. The young man was sitting with his head tilted down, dark hair falling over his eyes, obscuring his face. He was bent over a small cup, which he was wringing about in his hands. Intrigued, he walked closer.

He slid in the seat opposite, leaning his arms on the table. The boy didn't make any movement to acknowledge his presence. Cale couldn't help feeling his heart sink with pity. His hair was almost black, slick with oil and matted with dirt. The boy's clothing was ragged, torn and frayed at the edges, covered in dark stains. A black cord hung from his neck with a pewter pendent on the end. Cale cleared his throat, trying to get the boy's attention. The boy jerked his head ever so slightly.

"Err… hey…" Cale stuttered, fumbling for something to say. "I hope you don't mind that I sit here…"

The boy shook his head dismissively. "It's alright," he muttered. Though Cale was feeling uncomfortable, the boy was stoic and emotionless.

Cale paused, trying to think of some kind of small talk. "So… do you live here?"

This time he could see a thin smile from under the shadows. "You could sort of say that."

"I'm not from around here. Just a pit stop, you know."

"Yeah, that's what most people come here for."

"Oh yeah? What are they like?"

"I don't know. The same. I don't get out much."

Silence again. The teenager was running his finger along the rim of the cup. Staring at the boy's hands Cale suddenly noticed how scarred they were, calloused and cut in many places. Along his left wrist Cale caught a glimpse of a deep-set string of black numbers. He stared long enough to catch the boy's attention, because he quickly turned his wrist and set his hand on the tabletop.

Cale cleared his throat. "Do you uh, have family here or anything?"

The boy looked up a bit, but not enough for Cale to see his eyes. "No. They're dead."

 _Great going there, Cale._ "I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"Yeah, well, most people don't. But usually they don't ask."

"Well, do you live alone?"

"Let me set this straight for you," the boy said between clenched teeth. "I live on one of the farms off by the dunes. I live with a few others in a shack behind the fields." Now he was talking slower, as if to make sure Cale got what he was saying. "I have no family but the others and my master. Happy now?"

Cale shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I'm sorry… I just –"

He sighed and looked up into Cale's eyes, and Cale was taken aback by how black and lifeless that gaze was. "You just thought it best to sort of ignore it, didn't you? Well that's really touching, but I don't need your pity," he spat. Standing up, he dug into his pocket and tossed a small coin on the counter. Without another glance at Cale, he stormed off.

Cale slumped down in the booth and sighed. "Well, that went well," he mumbled. Something about the boy bothered him. The way he spoke, those black eyes… they seemed so familiar, somewhere beyond the calloused layers of suffering and cynicism. It was a shadowy figure out of a distant memory. He had a sudden recollection of a moment long ago in time, sitting outside a shop in the sunrise, Tek standing over him… _I am not my father. I do not abandon my family…_

Cale jerked in his seat, eyes wide. He looked over his shoulder and saw the boy standing outside still, hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt. Cale stumbled out of the booth, crossed the diner and opened the door, stepping outside. The boy looked up, frowned, and began to storm off. "Hey!" Cale called. He jogged after him. "Just wait a moment, will you?"

"The hell's wrong with you? Leave me alone!" the boy shouted over his shoulder and quickened his pace. Cale ran after him. Cale caught the boy by the arm and he reeled around, gritting his teeth in a snarl, eyes flashing. " _Let go of me,_ " he hissed, trying to pry Cale's fingers off. Their eyes met, Cale's glittering green with curiosity and the boy's narrow and jet-black. There was a long pause as the two stood, the boy panting as his frustration ebbed. Cale's eyes flickered back and forth as he studied the boy's face.

"Tai?"

The expression on the boy's face slackened. The name sunk in and anger faded to confusion and disbelief. Cale's grip on his shoulder loosened and he backed away, still staring at Cale's face. He laughed and shook his head. "Oh my god…" Taylor muttered under his breath with a smile, still chuckling. He turned away and started to walk off again, leaving Cale stunned.

"Tai! Wait!"

Taylor stopped and turned back around. "Tai is dead!" he shouted. "Go home!" He turned away.

Cale felt torn. He wasn't the same. Cale ran up to Taylor again and fell into step. Taylor didn't look at him; he was looking at the ground, still grinning at the irony. "It's been four years. Where have you been?"

Cale looked down at his feet with a sigh. "I tried to find you, Tai… believe me I did…"

"Well, what stopped you?"

"I… we found the station they took you to… but when we got there, they told me you had already been... you know... I guess I lost faith… it was as if you had died, and I had to move on…"

Taylor felt his contempt give way to other emotions and memories. "I did die, in a way… you did, too..."

Cale frowned. "Well, we're together now."

Taylor stopped, and Cale did as well. Cale sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "God it's been a long time… what's- I mean, how are you?"

Taylor began to walk again; they were walking along the road leading to the dunes and canyons. "How do you think I am, Cale? Take a guess; I'll give you a hint. I've been a slave on a remote desert planet for four years, constantly beaten by an alcoholic bastard who raped my girlfriend and left her to die. And all that time I believed you abandoned me, that you were dead, just like everyone else. Now how do you think I am?"

"Guess I deserved that," Cale muttered. "Okay, so I've missed a lot. But really, what's happened, since that day?"

Taylor sighed. He felt a mixture of different conflicting emotions, of joy and anger; the sudden rush of feeling was seditious to the nature he'd set the past few years, and it terrified him. Nevertheless he paused to reflect on Cale's question, and he began to recount everything that had happened since the day he stepped out of the little house on Vusstra alone. He went slowly at first as he accounted his kidnapping, the darkness in the cargo hold, the slave cages, Steele… then he began to go faster and faster, until the events seemed to be just a blinding whirl of anguish and disillusionment. He went on like this until he was tired of it, and now they had walked miles away from the little diner; the sun had sunk out of the sky, afternoon giving way to evening. The two stopped walking. Cale stood staring into space trying to take in what Taylor had said, but Taylor was staring off in front of him with an expression mixed with horror and resignation.

They were standing at the foot of a long tilled field that stretched out in front of them; behind the fields the tops of a series of shacks and buildings could barely be seen in the evening glow. In the middle of the field was a tall, spindly structure, a grotesque imitation of a windmill. There was a long line of high dunes all along the far sides of the fields, and to the left the mountains loomed tall. Cale snapped out of his trance and looked around. In the distance the yellow blush of lights inside the buildings could be seen. Taylor cursed under his breath; it was late, too late. "Cale, I have to go…"

Cale shrugged. "Well then, I'll come with you-"

" _No_ ," Taylor snapped. Then lower, "No, you can't let him see you… too much could go wrong, I'm in enough trouble as it is…"

Cale hesitated, torn. "Alright, I'll leave then… Tek's waiting for me…"

Something in Taylor's eyes flashed. "Tek's here too?"

"Of course, did you think I came alone?"

Taylor paused as if to answer when the sound of a loud slam could be heard far off across the fields. Hesitating, Taylor stepped backwards, grappling to stay or go… and then he turned and took off as fast as he could across the dusty fields, leaving Cale behind.

Cale stood for a moment, watching Taylor until he could no longer discern his form in the shadows of the evening. He knew he should go and not risk anything for his friend, but something tugged at him… he began to follow Taylor's path across the fields. It was a long jog, but soon Cale found himself standing in front of a little shack, crudely put together of wooden planks. The roof slanted forward, and there was only one large window in the front next to a rickety door. Inside a pale yellow light shone, streaming out of the window onto the sandy ground outside. He had seen Taylor disappear into this shack, and could hear his voice speaking inside; another voice was answering him, but he couldn't hear what either were saying. He fell down on his knees and crawled beneath the windowsill, trying to hide in the shadows.

Inside it was cramped; most of the space was taken up with two bunk beds on either side. The only empty wall was next to the door, which was covered with shelves, filled with an assortment of candles and supplies.

From the moment Taylor came in the shack, Dover was all over him. "Taylor! Thank God, where have you been?"

The tall young man standing in front of Taylor was only about two years older than himself. He had a very rogue look, with long brown hair swept behind his ears. When Taylor had been brought here four years ago, Dover had already been a slave for many years, and it was Dover who taught Taylor how to survive. Though Dover had been resentful of Taylor and sought out every opportunity to put him down, the boy began to grow on him over the years. Now the only ones left, they were especially close.

"Nowhere, I was just at the diner, that's all…"

"That's it? What took you so long?"

"I'll tell you about it later, Dover…"

"Master's going to have your ass when he realizes you left."

"He doesn't need to know."

"Well you can count on him finding out," Dover snorted, turning his back on Taylor and collapsing onto one of the bottom bunks. Taylor stood scowling before dropping onto the opposite bunk by the window. There was an uneasy silence as Taylor sat on the edge of the bunk with his head in his hands, half expecting footsteps to come up the gravel path at any moment. But they didn't come, and he started to relax, curling up in a ball on his side, facing the window.

He didn't hear the footsteps until they were crashing up to the little shack. There was a squelching slam as the rust-hinged door was thrown open, and before Taylor could even start to react he was seized by the arm and thrust at the floor.

A shockwave of pain rippled through his body as he struck back first. Flinching, he looked up at the figure towering over him.

The man above him wore a snarl of heavy loathing. Taylor felt his heart go cold. Though in reality the older man was a bit shorter than Tai and not nearly as well built as Dover, in his blood-thirst he looked as if he filled the room. His eyes, so narrow they were almost slits, were shot with red.

"Where did you go, Boy?" He called none of his slaves by their names; he merely referred to them as "Boy" or "You"... or typically, something fouler.

Tai lay shivering on the floor, trying to regain some composure. "Master, I'm not a boy anymore, I'm 18-"

" _I don't care how old you are, damn you!_ " The man shouted. Dover was silent on his bunk, frowning. From the bunk above Taylor the curious round face of a three-year-old boy peered over the rail, eyes sleepy. "Now, answer me!"

Taylor attempted to pull himself up off the dirt floor, clutching the rail of the bunk for balance. He looked at the ground and didn't make eye contact, flinching. "I was just down the road, sir… I must have lost track of the time."

"Down the road?" The man repeated in disbelief. "Didn't I tell you," he growled, "that you were never allowed to leave again?"

Taylor didn't answer. He did, of course, remember his master had said that… he still had the scars to prove it, in fact. He hadn't planned on coming home late; he was going to sneak down and back before anyone had a chance to notice. But then he met Cale…

Without warning the man swung his hand and connected with the side of Taylor's face; Taylor dropped against the bunk, clutching his cheek. The man stood with his fists clenched, staring down his nose at Taylor, lips curled. Dover was frozen on the opposite bunk.

Taylor glanced up skeptically and made to stand back up again, but the man kicked Taylor hard in the shin and he buckled, slamming his head against the bunk. He collapsed on the floor and hissed with pain, gripping his arm where it struck the rail, but didn't attempt to stand up again. His cheeks burned red and his head hung down, his thoughts concentrated only on ignoring the pain. The man forced Taylor's head up with the toe of his shoe.

"Don't. Ever. Disobey me. Again," he bit out, withdrawing his foot, the stench of alcohol thick on his breath. Taylor clenched his eyes shut and flinched just before the man swung the same foot against his side. The swipe tore the fabric of his shirt and left a long gash, and Taylor let out a small, bitten-off cry. The man wasn't satisfied, and he kicked again, and again, slamming Taylor with his fists, until Taylor was blind with pain, screaming his apologies, the salt of his tears stinging in open wounds.

The master paused, Taylor still sobbing. In the bunk above came the uncontrollable screaming of the young boy, now audible. Dover had watched in horror, rooted to the spot. When his master shifted as if to swing again Dover could not contain himself any longer. "STOP IT! YOU'LL KILL HIM!"

The man rounded on Dover, who didn't flinch or blink, merely shook with loathing for the man and fear for Taylor's sake. "He's mine and I will do whatever the hell I want with 'im!" he snapped. He turned his head to regard Taylor cringing on the floor. "He's always been worthless, anyway, why shouldn't I?"

"Because you need him," Dover said simply. "And you paid for him, as you said. We all know how much your money means to you." He wished to add something more vulgar to that, but caught himself.

The shack fell quiet, broken only by Taylor's hoarse breathing and the little boy's sobs. Finally, the man snorted and turned his back on them all and strode from the room, wrenching the door open and slamming it behind him.

They all waited for a pause but he didn't return. After he had been gone at least a few minutes, Dover slid from the bunk to kneel down next to Taylor, who was retching blood. The dirt and dust from the floor was intermingling with his wounds. Dover snatched a rag off the shelf and pressed it against Taylor's side. Dover tried the best he could to get the dirt out of the wounds, praying the beating wasn't so grave this time that Taylor was bleeding internally. Taylor shivered and coughed, paralyzed with shock. By now the child had crawled to the edge of the top bunk again and was peering down at them again, his rosy cheeks tear-stained. Dover looked up to return his gaze.

"Help me out, will you? We've got to get the bleeding to stop."

The boy's one blue and one green eye both widened and he scrambled off the edge and climbed to the floor. He came up beside Dover and stood staring at Taylor. Eyes tearing, the little boy threw his arms around Taylor. "I don' want Tay-ler to die, Dover."

"I don't either. Now will you let go and help me, Cody? You're hurting him."

* * *

Outside beneath the windowsill, Cale sat still, clutching the gravel in his hands. He had barely resisted the urge to trip that beast they called "Master" as he came storming out of the shack and stumbled off cursing into the night. He had sat there and listened to the whole thing, even though his heart had been screaming at him to intervene, while his mind cried for him to stay hidden. Now that it was over he was left brewing with his thoughts. Suddenly the reality of everything Taylor had told him came slamming home. What astounded him most was that Taylor's master was human. Certainly he never would have imagined something so atrocious… and the way that man treated them, it made him sick to think about. _There's solidarity for you, Tek._

The more he sat beneath the windowsill running all this through his mind, the more his anger built, until he came to a resolution. If he left Taylor here much longer, he'd die. He could think of no other way. He slid out from under the windowsill, careful not to come in view of the window, and scrambled to his feet. This planet had no moon, only the thin light of the stars to brighten the twilight sky. Cale took one last look at the peaceful little shack and plunged into the fields, running back towards the road, the starlight the only guide to carry him.


	11. Chapter X - The Sky is Falling and No One Knows

It was late dusk when Cale finally walked down the road to the station, hands tucked in his pockets and head hung as he trotted through the gravel, kicking the tiny grains ahead of him. He had long since gotten use to the darkness; in a world with little light, everything was colorless and stoic with no distinction. He had met no one coming along the long road back and silently blessed this; his own voices were enemy enough without fear of another along the road. His thoughts kept returning to all that had happened what seemed like only minutes before. The images stayed fresh in his mind, though he had seen nothing but the yellowed light striking the sand before him and the dunes far off. He would push them aside, try to ignore them and pretend they had never happened; yet the voices would return, the same strong pangs of horror and fear, now faded at the seams like rain down a pane of glass. Cale remembered looking into his friend's eyes and seeing the pools of blackness and despair that they shed like tears. The very human spirit was broken and reflected, constantly hidden in the shadow of dark brows worn with sleepless nights and undeserved suffering. He found himself wondering what exactly it was that kept such a resigned spirit in the light of life, to toil away and suffer another day instead of resting eternally, but such thoughts were slashed as the station came to light and Cale raised his head.

The station was quiet. Next to the entrance was a long bench, and sitting on this bench, - a slumbering head set on one shoulder - was Tek. In the pale cream light, Tek's murky olive skin was insipid, blending with the drab sepias of the planet. He looked peaceful, slumped on the bench with one clawed hand clutching the luggage on the ground beside the bench. With a pang of guilt, Cale remembered his promise to return and meet Tek here hours before. Weary, he collapsed on the bench next to the alien and began trying to shake him awake.

Tek grumbled and spluttered as he stirred awake, blinking his sightless gold eyes and turning towards Cale. Reaching a hand to touch Cale's face, he sighed and let go of the luggage. "Cale…" Tek muttered with an edge of relief. "Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry Tek… I got a bit sidetracked…"

"'Sidetracked'?" Tek crinkled his trunk in an expression Cale had come to recognize as disbelief. "Hmm, where at, I wonder? I may be mistaken, but it could not have possibly taken you that long to get something to eat, even knowing you."

"Trust me, it's a lot more important than food."

"Oh…? And important enough to leave me waiting here as well, old and blind as I am?"

Cale crossed his arms and set his brow. "Look, I'm sorry about that, but you don't understand."

"Then what is it?"

"It's Tai."

Tek paused and tilted his head, trying to place the name of some ghost. "Taylor? What about him?"

"He's here, I saw him. He's alive. Though… I'm not sure for how much longer…"

Tek huffed. He had been expecting a story of some sort, but dragging poor Taylor into this…

Cale was exasperated. "I'm serious! I ran into him when I went to get lunch, then he sort of… ran out on me. You have to believe me. Tai's in a lot of trouble… if we don't do something, he'll die…"

Tek held up his hands. "Alright, yes, slow down for a moment… you say Taylor is here? Are you sure? Did you talk to him?"

Cale nodded. "I'm positive, I'm sure it's him... well... he's different now, a lot different... but it's still him. I got him to talk to me for a while when I walked back with him... he told me about the _Tyrad_... he looks horrible, he's got all these scars and a _brand_ on his wrist..."

The Vusstran folded his arms, trunk curling. "Hmm... where is he now?"

Cale turned and gestured far to the east, where the horizon was just beginning to glow. "Down the road, far down the road in the dunes… he's on some kind of run-down little farm there. I tried to go with him, but he wouldn't let me."

Tek grumbled. "He was sold, then, and here all along… hmm. What do you suggest we do, then?"

Cale looked struck; despite his storm of thoughts he hadn't come up with a definite plan as to what was to be done. "Well, we have to get him back somehow…"

"That much is obvious," Tek grunted. "The question is how to get him back… is there some way we could buy him back?"

"I doubt it. There's no bargaining with this guy… you should have seen…" Cale grimaced. "There's a way, I know there is. Worst comes to worst, I could break him out somehow…"

"Hmm, yes, let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The two continued to banter all the way back to their room at the hotel until it was finally decided that Cale would go back on his own, meet this man, and attempt to speak with him about the issue… only talk and attempt to bargain, he promised Tek, nothing else. Tek agreed that Cale should go alone and at first light, Cale should set off.

Cale, however, had plans of his own.

* * *

Round mismatched eyes stared fearfully in the dark. Cody rocked back and forth at the foot of Taylor's bunk, clasping his toes with awkward hands. He turned to watch the shaky rise and fall of Taylor's chest, ears tuned to the wheeze of his breath. It was late, and everyone was asleep now but Cody. He was sleepy too. If he stopped rocking, his eyelids drooped. Cody shook his head. No. Bad. Gotta stay awake. Gotta help. Be a good boy.

Taylor's body shook with a loud cough. Cody sunk back against the corner as Taylor rolled over and heaved, spitting up blood, gasping for air. Eyes wide, Cody scrambled out of the way, tumbling onto the floor. He jumped at Dover's bunk and began tugging on the blanket.

"Unk-le!" Cody shouted. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Dover stirred, Cody's desperate voice sinking into his mind. He sat bolt upright, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. "What? What is it?"

Cody hopped on the tips of his toes and pointed over to Taylor's back. Dover's eyes followed and he sprang out of the bed, placing a hand on Taylor's shoulder. Taylor was cringing and shaking under his fingers, face smeared with his own blood. The crude bandages Dover had made with pieces of an old shirt were soaked black. Taylor's eyes were closed; he was unconscious. Dover rubbed his face with his free hand. "Oh, Christ..." he muttered.

Cody clung to the edge of the mattress, craning his head up to see. "What's wrong? Is Uncle okay?"

Dover was silent, staring down at Taylor's body. He sighed and pulled his hand away. Cody looked up at Dover's dark, towering form as he turned and walked past. "Wait here, Cody. I'll be right back." Cody's head snapped around just as Dover pulled open the door and walked out.

Cody sat on the floor and began to rock again. Time passed, hours and hours of time; at least, that's how it felt. Cody's eyes watered and he began to cry. His only answer was the silence of the night and Taylor's forced breathing.

The screen door creaked and slammed shut. Cody wiped his eyes and looked up at Dover. In his arms were a blanket, a small stack of hand towels, and a roll of bandages. He stepped around Cody and placed them on the bunk, kneeling down.

Cody stood up, wringing his hands. "Where did Uncle get...?"

Dover shushed the boy and handed him one of the towels. Cody clutched it in his arms and sat back down. It was always like this. Uncle would never tell him about anything that he got. Putting together Dover's tousled hair with the scent of chamomile on the towel, Cody was sure he knew where they came from.

On the front porch of the manor was a rocking chair. Here he saw her sitting every day, smiling at him. Cody didn't know much about the Lady of the house. He had a vague memory of sitting in her arms as a tiny baby, looking up into her blue eyes. Unlike Master, who was always drinking out of glass bottles and yelling and hitting, the Lady was nice. She had a soft voice, and only gave nice touches and kisses. One time he saw her and Uncle Dover touching and kissing, but they didn't see him, so they didn't know he saw. Whenever Uncle Dover got something, he and Uncle Taylor would fight and yell for a while. Cody wasn't sure why. Uncle Taylor got things too, sometimes.

"Cody? You there?"

Cody looked up to see Dover waving at him. "Can I have that?" Dover asked, nodding at the towel clutching in Cody's arms. Cody glanced down at the towel and held it out.

* * *

Taylor woke late the following morning. His vision was cloudy and he ached everywhere. He was wrapped heavily in bandages around his side and his arm, and blood was crusted underneath his fingernails and black on the mattress, his skin a pallid shade, splotched purple. He clenched his eyes shut and flinched. Memories flooded back to him… had he really met Cale the previous day? No, it must have been a dream, like always… yet he vividly remembered the sound of his voice, the long talk on the way back, running through the field… he pushed the visions aside and opened his eyes to the common sight of the tiny room, bathed in pale sunlight. It was quiet and devoid of either of his companions. His mind was clouded with lassitude. He tried to push himself off of the bed. A spasm of pain rippled through his body, leaving him gasping for breath. Gritting his teeth he attempted to stand again, clutching the bunk for balance, trying to wall off the pain as he had taught himself to do. He noticed his bloodstained shirt folded on the opposite bed next to a grungy-looking bowl filled with a dark paste. Stomach growling, he hobbled over and downed the meal. Pulling on the torn shirt, he stepped outside the little shack.

Outside the land blazed in the vapid autumn sunlight. The soil was caked and dry, and the sands surrounding looked dun in the morning light. The mountains in the distance were obscured by a layer of haze, fading their majesty out of existence. The radiance glared into Taylor's sore black eyes; he lifted a filthy hand to try and shield his eyes as he looked out above the horizon. Looming over the mountains reared the billowing forms of dark clouds, ready to belch forward and block out the autumn rays. The air was tainted with the dry blood of the earth, the dust of the departing life, and the crackle of anticipation. A breeze caressed Taylor's face before sweeping toward the foreboding shapes in the distance, together with the silent whisper of unnerving calm.

Out in the fields a figure was bent amidst the measly spate of crops. The sickly plants slumped yellow in the cracked earth, barely able to keep up the struggle to thrive towards the beating sun. With a sickening pang, looking at the field, Taylor realized the harvest would be meager this year. The figure in the field stood up tall in the sun and waved. Taylor returned the gesture and made off through the field, brushing his hand past the shriveled foliage as he passed.

As he neared, Taylor caught the glint of Dover's smile, the sparkle in his eye and the amused chuckle as Taylor arrived before him, squinting. Dover broke into a burst of laughter when he took in Taylor's bedraggled appearance.

"Man, Taylor, you really got the boot this time," Dover remarked by way of greeting.

Taylor scowled. "What are you doing out here, Dover? It's not your shift."

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Dover retorted, holding up a spade just as innocent looking as his own face. "I'm working."

"I didn't ask you to take my shift," Taylor snapped.

"Yeah, it's kind of hard to when you're half dead."

Taylor's eyes narrowed.

"Look, it's no big deal," Dover sighed. "You and I both know you couldn't possibly handle it, not after last night, and besides… you did it for Melody."

"Melody was different. She was pregnant. I just got a scratch on the side, that's all." He wheezed with pain as he spoke; every breath pressed against his battered ribs, making his chest burn. "While we're on the subject, where did you get the bandages, Dover?"

Dover turned away, pulling at one of the plants. "Bandages? What bandages?"

"Don't be dense… you got them from the mistress, didn't you?"

"Yeah, so what? She offered to help, I accepted. What's wrong with that?"

"'What's wrong with that?' Do you think she really cares about us? That she really cared about Cody?" Taylor snarled. "She's using you. You know she is. She knows she can get you to do anything-"

"Shut up!" Dover snapped. "You think I don't know that? Do you think I'm some kind of whore? For Christ's sake, you were bleeding to death. What the fuck was I supposed to do? If it weren't for her, you'd be six feet under. You have no idea the stress I was under last night trying to save your stupid ass, or how much it messed up Cody to see you that way. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Taylor stood looking at the ground, dazed. He ran his hand over his face and shook his head, skin color draining. "Sorry, Dover... I- I just…"

Dover caught him just before he hit the ground.

* * *

He knocked three times on the door, the sound reverberating through the decaying wood, and stood waiting there on the covered porch. Cale muttered little words of encouragement to himself; his heart was pounding in anxiety, and a light sweat was beading on his forehead. Wiping his face with the back of his hand he took a deep breath – and held it, head snapping up and hazel eyes glinting as he saw her, watching him from the left wing of the porch with a smile.

She sat in a delicately crafted periwinkle rocking chair - a glaring contrast to the tattered farmhouse with its chipped paint and whitewashed sides. Hands as perfectly smooth as a porcelain doll lay clasped on her lap atop a flowing petticoat. She smirked at him as a cat would smirk in sly wonder of a mockingbird that crossed its path. Bronze ringlets framed the cream face of the young woman. Her only flaw glared out of half-lidded eyes - for they were a blue as cold as a gravestone on a winter's eve. All of Cale's previous concerns vanished as if a drain had been opened to his thoughts, and he stood there dumb-founded on the threshold, still holding his hand to his forehead.

Her brow knitted as she stared straight back into his eyes, moving like honey dripping over bread. "Pardon, did I startle you?" she simpered.

Cale dropped his hands and clasped them behind, giving himself a mental jolt. "N-no, ma'am," he replied, surprised at his automatic formality.

The brows unraveled; she smiled again. "That's just as well. Are you looking for my husband?"

"Your… your husband? Oh… yes, yes I am, I need to speak…" He was saved by the thud of footfalls from across the parlor inside the house, and within a moment the door screeched open. Cale's heart dropped into his shoes.

The man who stood before him was almost eye level with himself, yet Cale felt insignificantly smaller. From his refuge below the windowsill he never got a clear sight of the man the night before, and it was much too dark to see anything but his silhouette as he came barreling out of the shack. The man who stood before Cale now was stocky with calloused, brazened skin. Thin black eyes glared out beneath dark eyebrows, and the man's balding head was hidden beneath a patched cap. He eyed Cale with insolence, suspicion flashing behind his beetle orbs; then, before Cale could get a word out, walked past to lean over the porch rail towards the fields beyond.

In the field Cale could see two figures, one supporting the other. The man's nose crinkled, and with a roar he bellowed at the two figures. "BOYS! Get 'ere NOW!" And he turned from the railing. Cale was still watching as the first figure made a very rude gesture at the man's back with its finger and was slugged in the side by the other.

The man stopped as he caught sight of Cale standing there again. He tossed around doubt for a second, then gave in and continued heading for the porch steps, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Back to work," he grunted at Cale.

"Johann, dear," the woman called at his back. "This boy is here to speak with you."

The man halted. "That so? What does he want?"

Cale blinked at the woman, who nodded. He folded his arms and tossed the hair out of his eyes. "Sir, my name's Cale Tucker. I'm here about a friend of mine that you currently have listed under your property."

"Do I now?" he remarked, turning around; if he was surprised, he didn't show it. "So what of it?"

It was about this time that the two boys from the field came trudging up to the house. Cale recognized Taylor right away; Cale winced when he saw the bruises, scabs, and bloodstains that littered his mangled body. The other Cale didn't recognize, but inferred it must be Dover, who had intervened the previous night. He was scowling and still rubbing his side.

The man didn't seem in any way perturbed by Taylor's appearance; his eyes were darting about the ground, searching. "Eh, where's that little whelp?" he muttered.

No sooner had the words left his lips than a small boy with soiled blond hair came waddling into view, clasping onto Dover's leg. The boy's bedraggled clothing was splotched with soapy water, and there were smudges on his round cheeks.

The man sneered as Dover lifted the boy up to sit on his shoulders. "Right then, that'll do," he muttered. "You, boy, you've got to come quicker when you're called, hear?"

"Yes, Mas'er," The boy peeped, curling Dover's short hair through his fingers. "But I - "

" _Quiet_. I don't want to hear it." The boy was immediately silent, bottom lip trembling. Cale's flinch at the man's rebuke caught Taylor's notice, and his eyes widened. Cale looked down at his feet. "There are some crates out back I need brought 'round front here, some gents will be coming back later to pick 'em up. You better be careful movin' them or whatever damage done comes out of you, understand?"

There was a general murmur of assent as they turned away and trudged out of sight. When they were gone the man spun round to face Cale.

"Well, Mr. Tucker, which one is it?"

"Uh… he goes by the name of Taylor."

His nose crinkled. "Taylor?"

"He's the one with the long bangs and all the bruises."

"Oh, _him!_ That wretch? I bought him off the _Tyrad_ years ago." He leaned back against one of the poles holding up the porch roof. "Didn't take long for him to break, almost thought he'd be too old when I got him… that's right, the others called him Taylor…"

Cale winced, but remained passive. "Yes, that's him."

"I see… so what was your plan? Just show up and take him?"

He shifted his weight. "Well… something like that…"

"Alright."

"… What?"

"Alright, you do that. Go get your friend."

Cale titled his head in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

He folded his arms, smirking. "You've got my word. Just one thing: You take only him, nothing else."

He came around the back of the building and peered around the edge, squinting at the flood of sunlight. Large wooden crates had been stacked in uneven, lopsided rows against the building wall. Taylor was standing besides one, glaring up at Dover standing on another, who was reaching up to grab a crate towards the top of a stack.

The raised voices told him right away that they were arguing. Frankly, Cale wasn't surprised; it reminded him of the same sort of arguments he and Taylor had gotten into since he dropped out of the stars.

"… Just give me the hunching box, Dover!" Taylor was shouting.

Dover grimaced. "It's okay, I got it!"

Cody, who was sitting atop a two-crate stack with his feet dangling over the edge, watched the two bemused - he was twisting his tunic around between his fingers and swinging his battered feet back and forth, humming some song out of tune.

"Bullshit! You've been working all morning, there's no way you can carry that."

"I'd carry it a kek just to shut you up," Dover retorted, sliding the heavy crate off the stack. "As if you're in any better condition! You might pick up a crate and lose an arm or something." Dover made to act out such an inevitable horror and almost dropped the crate on Taylor.

Cale cleared his throat just as Taylor went to counter. Taylor spun around. Sweat glistened on his brow under his long bangs and his irises shone obsidian black in the sun.

"Tai! Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Taylor crossed his arms. "I'm kind of busy right now, Cale," he growled. "Why don't you just go back to Tek and forget about it? It's worked for you before."

Dover frowned, giving Cale a scrutinizing look. "Who the hell is that?"

Taylor rolled his eyes. "He's no one."

Dover set the crate down on the ground, wiping his forehead on his sleeve. "Yeah? What does he want? Hey, if you've come for a show, there's nothing to see here. Get lost."

Cale shrugged, smiled. "Alright then, okay… but only if you come with me."

Dover eyed Cale suspiciously; Taylor scoffed. "Oh, sure, Cale. Maybe this time he'll just kill me for it." He spread his arms, the scars and the bloodstained shirt gleaming.

"He couldn't. Not if you never came back."

Taylor dropped his arms. "… What are you playing at?"

"I talked to your- … uh, that guy. He said you could come with me."

Dover laughed. "What's the catch?"

"No catch."

Dover shook his head. "Come on, there has to be a catch. I've been under his boot most of my life, he wouldn't just let Taylor go."

The smile faded off of Cale's face. "Well… I can only take Tai."

There was silence for a moment as everyone glanced at Taylor. The wind whistled in their ears.

"I'm sorry, Cale," Taylor said, "but I can't leave."

Cale and Dover both cried out at the same time. " _What?"_ "Why not?"

"Because I can't leave you two here!" Taylor shouted right back at Dover.

"Oh yes you can! Listen, I don't like this guy one bit – no offense," ("None taken.") "And I don't like his white-horse crap, but if he's serious, then you need to get yourself out of here."

Taylor bristled. "And leave you here to _rot?_ Sorry, but I'm not him."

"Okay, pretend I'm not standing right here…" Cale muttered.

Dover had climbed down off the boxes and was standing with his arms folded to Taylor. With their fixed scowls and narrowed glares, one could have been a reflection of the other. "When are you going to get your head out of your ass, Taylor?" Dover yelled. "Are you going to let yourself die rather than accept help? Who do _you_ really care about? Make up your mind!"

"I have, and I'm staying here!" Taylor screamed. Dover stepped back; he bumped Cody's crate and the boy let out a gasp, bursting into tears.

"Now look what you did!" Dover shouted over Cody's cries as he took the boy in his arms and tried to muffle the tears.

Taylor bit his lip. He glanced at Cale, hazel eyes sparkling in sympathy. He stepped back, turned and ran.

* * *

Cale trudged back to the front of the house. He was still there, leaning over the rail of the porch. When he saw Cale approach, his face cracked into a grin and he burst out laughing.

The blond-haired teen stopped and glared at him. "You tricked me, didn't you? You knew he wouldn't leave them."

"I hate to break it to you, boy," he said, chuckling. "But if you fell for that, then it seems I know my own property much better than you do."

Inside Cale was raging with frustration, but he swallowed it. "So is that it?"

The man smiled and tossed his head. "Not if you don't wan' it to be, boy. It's your call."

Cale slumped in his sweatshirt. _How do you beat this guy at his own game?_ "Okay, how about a bet?"

"Oh?" The man responded, though his eyes were gleaming. "Whaddya have in mind?"

Cale thought for a moment. His eyes drifted over the faded wood, the rusted screen door.

"I bet you I can fix anything on this farm," he said at length.

"Anything, hmm? Even, say…" He tilted his head and nodded at the decrepit little windmill in the field. "That?"

Cale turned and looked it over. "Sure. Why not?"

"Alright. So what's in it for you if you win?"

He turned back and grinned. "If I fix it, you let Tai and the others come with me."

"You fix it in a day and they're yours. Starting tomorrow. And what's in it for me?"

"Well…" Cale hesitated. "If I lose, I'll take their place."

"You lose, you join them."

"Fine. Deal."

"You pretty confident, then?"

"Like I said, I can fix anything."

"We'll see about that."


	12. Chapter XI - Visions

Cale couldn't remember much about how sunsets were supposed to look. Such memories of Earth were faint, and he couldn't claim to have seen many true sunsets back on Vusstra. Just the word itself was serene; deep down it inspired an awe, and a puzzling image – was it a memory or a dream? – of watching such a spectacle in his mother's arms, eons ago. It was ridiculous – silly – for him to believe he might actually have a memory like that, but even so the image stirred a feeling of enamored beauty and peace.

This sunset was anything but beautiful.

Storm clouds crept down upon the valley, swirling lecherously overhead with all the poise of a flock of scavenging birds. The storm cast a smokescreen in front of the sun, a ball of tainted red dripping and gushing onto the horizon, tinting the dirt and sands a horrible shade. Black shadows festered and gnawed at the dunes and fields, almost swallowing the two figures still standing there amongst the withering foliage. Their dark silhouettes stung backlit against the sun. His eyes watered to fight the glare; he had been watching them all afternoon.

Cale Tucker was too proud to admit that he felt very lonely and out of place. Maybe it had been right of Taylor to react so venomously towards his old nickname. The name seemed to refer to someone else, to a time long gone. He couldn't figure out why it bothered him so much, this change. Sure, of course he couldn't have expected Taylor not to change, but… watching Taylor and Dover in the field, he couldn't help but feel as if he had had a brother stolen away. Whenever Taylor stumbled, Dover was there – like a flash – by his side to steady him, before Cale could so much as think of budging. Despite all his good intentions, Cale found himself mustering scorn towards Dover – which seemed mutual. Dover saw right through Cale, dismissing him as brash, especially after Cale told them about the bet. That news Taylor had taken sullenly; Dover just laughed. The master of the farm acted only grudgingly towards Cale whenever they happened to clap eyes. This wasn't too often, as he seemed to have other things on his mind besides a cavalier visitor. Even the mistress appeared to look upon him now with a scathing eye, flitting between her perch and the inside of the manor. Cale realized – too late – that she had overheard the gamble Cale and her husband had made. She was so inconspicuous and polite he hadn't so much as given her a thought.

The only one who showed any sort of friendliness towards the straw-haired stranger was the boy Cody. Frequently he would prowl up and just stare at Cale, blanched round face sometimes melting into a nervous smile. In the sunlight, Cody's thin hair gleamed almost silver, and his curious mix-matched eyes sparkled with vivacity, like a breath of life amidst a cemetery of cold, dead looks. As ordinary and commiserable as the poor boy was in his dirty tunic and calloused feet, there was an aura of mystery to him Cale couldn't quite place. Perhaps the same intrigue lured the boy to Cale.

Cale had been standing watching the field, sweatshirt flung over his shoulder, sun beating down on his face. Out of the corner of his eye Cale could still catch the boy's gaze, blue eye and green eye watching him from the shade of the porch. It had been close to ten minutes now and it was starting to get on Cale's frayed nerves. He tilted his head and gave Cody an awkward smile, squinting. "Hey."

The boy shrank down against the deck with a little whimper, but non-the-less raised a pockmarked hand and wiggled his fingers in greeting.

Cale stifled his laughter, afraid of seeming in any way condescending. "What's your name, kid?"

The "kid" blinked, startled, eyes darting back and forth. "C-Cody," he whispered, as if divulging a secret.

Cale nodded, and made as if to offer his hand, then thought better of it. "I'm Cale."

Cody pawed forward, sitting up a bit. His face scrunched up at the name. "What's that?"

"No, it's a name… Cale."

"Kay-el?"

He chuckled. "Close enough."

Cody's soft cheeks bobbed into a grin.

Cale leaned back against the porch railing, taking a valiant stab at conversation, and perhaps finding out more about this strange kid. "'Cody'… that's a cool name. Did your parents give it to you?"

The grin faded from the boy's face, his fair eyebrows knitting in confusion. "'Parents'?"

"Yeah, you know, like Mommy or Daddy?"

Cody paused, young mind working furiously. He looked up to Dover and Taylor in the fields and pointed. "Like uncles?"

Cale glanced over, shifting his shoulders. "Uh… sorta…"

The boy gave Cale a puzzled look. "Are 'parents' good or bad?"

"Well… good, usually. Definitely good to have. They care about you and want you to be happy." Cale frowned, memories crossing his mind. "Not all parents are very good at it," he mumbled.

Cody drew closer to the railing, wrapping his fingers around the bars. "Does Kay-el have parents?"

His eyes drifted away, shoulders drooping. When he spoke it was more solemn. "I did. A long time ago."

The boy doted on these words, trying to sift their meaning in his new friend's tone of voice. "Maybe they went to Heaven?"

Cale snapped back to Cody in surprise. "What?"

"Heaven," Cody repeated matter-of-fact, pleased to apparently know something the stranger didn't. "Do-ver told me abou' it."

The tension and surprise drifted away. "Oh… maybe…"

Even after all these years, Cale had never really thought twice about both his parents as dead. His father he had taken for lost, a deadbeat who had left him all alone and forgotten – but not dead. Well, it was possible. After all, he hadn't seen his father since he was five. A lot of time had passed since then. Too much time. Now, looking, at the sunset, he returned to that thought – a lingering possibility he had pushed out of his mind. Perhaps it was time he gave up on that hope, that flickering light that burned in his heart ever since that gold ring was slipped on his finger thirteen years ago.

 _An orphan_ , he thought, watching the inky silhouettes move towards him. _That's what I am. I'm an orphan, surrounded by orphans._

Why that was comforting, he didn't know.

_God, what a lonely world._

* * *

Electricity was in short supply on this dusty drip of a planet. A clanking, spitting, mess of a contraption referred to as a "generator" trickled only a penny's worth of extra power, most of which was directed to the equally dilapidated manor. Whatever was left – which was hardly enough to prick a finger on – was channeled to a sorry excuse for a light bulb hanging mournfully from the ceiling of the slaves' quarters. The light bulb, long out of its prime, sputtered and coughed like a diseased firefly.

Cale had to duck his head to keep from running into it. The space was cramped, stuffier than usual with three grown boys crammed into it. The blood rushed out of Cale's face as he spotted the stains on the bunk and floor. Cale turned back to Taylor – and the light bulb smacked right between his eyes.

Cody giggled as Cale swore under his breath, clutching his temple. The three-year-old swung up to his usual bunk, face lit with mirth. Cale looked over to him from beneath his hands.

"Thank that's funny, do you?" he grumbled, smiling anyway. Cody shook his head, curling up with his back to the bunk railing, but he was laughing into his knees.

Taylor raised a brow at Cale from the opposite side of the bulb, a smile tugging at his lips. He shook it away, collapsing onto the bunk below Cody. Propping his chin on his palm, he glanced up at Cale. "You can have the bunk above Dover's."

As if on cue, Dover stepped forward and patted Cale hard on the shoulder with a wry grin. "Might as well write your name on it, buddy. It's gonna be yours for a looong time." Laughing he sat back on the other bunk, arms behind his head.

Cale shot Dover a sarcastic "hah hah" and vaulted up to the remaining bunk, the wood creaking from the strain. Up here the air was thicker, and dust caked from ages of neglect. Nose wrinkling, Cale kicked his shoes off, sending them tumbling to the floor. Trying to get settled he looked below, where Taylor was pulling his shirt off over his head, flinging it aside. Cale winced to see the scars that littered Taylor's chest, and the soiled bandages wrapped tight around his side. Taylor grazed the wound with a tender finger and hissed with pain, yanking his hand away. The pendent strung around his neck thunked against his breastbone. Cale eyed it curiously.

"Where'd you get that? You never told me about it."

Taylor glanced up in surprise, eyes flickering. Compulsively he wrapped the necklace in his hand. "Someone… gave it to me," he replied, voice soft.

Cale leaned against the railing. "Really? Who?"

"… It doesn't matter." Taylor looked away, still clutching the necklace. For a moment his face simmered with pain.

With a sigh Cale folded his arms. "If it doesn't matter, then why do you wear it?"

"Don't bother with that stupid necklace," Dover grunted. "I tried to beat it off him a week after he got here. My right eye was swollen shut for days after that, damn thing," he laughed.

Cale snickered. "All the fuss, you'd think it was his girl or something."

He was the only one laughing. Taylor's face had suddenly paled, and Dover shifted uncomfortably on his bunk. A sickening gloom crept on the little shack as the smile faded from Cale's face. He glanced down at Taylor in apprehension, who was pulled together on the bunk, staring out the dark window.

Cale sucked on his teeth, gaze unfocused. When he gathered the heart to speak again, his voice was softer, almost sympathetic. "So tell me about this girl."

"What girl?" Taylor muttered, still staring out the window.

"You know… the one you lost."

He tilted his head down, his long bangs once again obscuring his face. "… There's nothing to say. She's dead." Memories were surfacing in his mind, images he tried so hard to lock away. Letting one escape was like releasing a floodgate. Taylor bit back the sparkle in his eyes.

Cale tread carefully, picking over his questions and thoughts. "Well, she wasn't always dead. What was she like when she was alive? Was she pretty?"

"… Yeah, she was."

"Ohh… did you ever… you know…"

" _It wasn't like that_ ," Taylor snarled, hair spinning as he shot a choleric glance up at Cale.

In defense, Cale raised his hands apologetically. "I know, I know, just joking."

He lowered. " _Well_ -"

"Did you love her?" Cale interrupted.

Taylor gaped, face blanching. A hint of color stained his cheeks as he hid his face on his knees. There was no simple answer he could put into words. Dover glanced over with one eye, mildly interested.

"When I first got here," Taylor began softly, chin on his knee. He seemed to be speaking half to himself, eyes staring off somewhere past the foot of his bunk. "The pain never stopped… no matter how hard I tried, it never went away, never… I was so scared… I wanted to die… so bad… just to end the pain. I couldn't take it. But Melody… she was always there… whenever I was hurt or afraid. When I saw her face, the pain just… disappeared. She keeps me alive."

The room fell into a contemplative silence. Cale sat lost in thought, Taylor lost in memory, and Dover lost in a search around the edges of his bunk. He patted around with his fingers until they closed on a small roll of paper. Pulling it out with a thankful sigh, he leaned around the end of his bunk and grabbed a lit candle from a shelf. He held the paper up to the tiny flame until it caught, the ends curling with a wisp of smoke. Setting the candle back, he stuck the paper between his lips and leaned onto his bunk again – only to be struck square on the shoulder by Cale's shoe.

Dover coughed and spluttered, snatching the paper from his mouth. Taylor was eyeing the paper roll with loathing. "What's your problem, Taylor?" Dover croaked, rubbing his shoulder.

"Put it out. You know I hate that shit," Taylor mumbled, turning his back on Dover to coil up on the mattress.

"What are you, my mother?" he retorted, putting it back to his lips and taking a puff.

Cale leaned over the edge of the bunk to look down at Dover, coughing at the smoke. "What is that?"

"It's a cigarette," he answered, voice slightly strained. At the blank look on Cale's face, Dover rolled his eyes and jerked the cigarette towards the window. "Do you know what grows in those fields?"

"You mean what _doesn't_ grow in those fields?" Cale replied, thinking of the withered-looking plants. "Not a clue."

"Tobacco hybrid. It's a mild drug, but very addictive. Master probably had a stash of it brought over from Earth just before the damned planet went down the drain. It musta been a pretty lucrative business then, or at least it was 'round here. Wasn't always just the three of us. He used to be filthy rich, I bet, before the market tanked. When I was first brought here as a kid there were over a dozen of us, all in those empty buildings rotting out back." Dover frowned at his cigarette, which had already almost burnt up. He smothered it on the edge of the bunk frame and continued. "Then they all just started disappearin' left and right… turn up dead or sold… and one-by-one the quarters were abandoned and the fields went fallow, until there was just a handful of us. Taylor and Melody were the last additions before it all went to heck." He finished with a sigh.

Cale grimaced. "Sounds rough."

Dover snorted. "You don't know the half of it, white-horse boy."

Smirking, Cale nodded over at the opposite bunk, where Cody was fast asleep. "What about him?"

"Who, Cody?" Dover looked up at Cody's bunk, then over at Taylor, who had settled with his back to them, breathing shallow. "Didn't Taylor ever tell you how Melody died?"

"He mentioned it… something about rape."

Dover shook his head. "Well, that's just part of it. She had an infection, a pretty bad one. Damn unsanitary out here, and Master refused to get medical help for her when she gave birth to Cody… his own son, poor bastard," he groaned. "She died a couple weeks later. Pretty much destroyed Taylor. Master refused to have anything to do with the kid, but the Misses just loved him. She kept him in the house until he stopped teething and he was turned back to us." Dover paused, folding his arms and sinking down. "This life is all he's ever known… and at the rate things are going…. all he'll ever know."

A moment passed as this all sunk in. A question flitted through Cale's mind, and before he could stop himself at the absurdity of it, he voiced it. "Dover, is it? How 'come you call Taylor that and not Tai?"

"'Tai'? Huh. He never told us he had a nickname."

"Yeah… I gave it to him when we were kids. Before all this happened."

"Hmm. Well… maybe he wanted to forget it. Some things are better left forgotten," he murmured.

The lightbulb flickered and died.

* * *

It would have seemed unremarkable, walking down the same dusty road, hands in his pockets. Unremarkable, except Cale could not recall ever feeling this way before. His head was hung, watching his feet moving down the road. Kicking up dust. Not that he noticed. Detached and forlorn, his soul held back, the world playing by like a film reel. The feelings, however, were no illusion. They smote and fermented at the back of his mind, stirring up anger, stirring up sadness, stirring up dust and cobwebs of memories faded and yellow. He was alone, so alone. Grieving – for what? Angry for feeling this way. Sick of the dust, of the iron taste lolling in his mouth. And frightened. He'd never felt this sort of terror. It was pitiful, the sort of panic a beaten dog might have, ever wary of being struck again. The anxiety of a broken spirit. The fear of a slave.

Visions flashed before his mind, memories devised to replace ones he'd never experienced. He felt the pain of humiliation, so many faces staring, everybody watching. He saw hot summer days in the fields, the sun boiling his muscles until he wanted to scream in agony. It was just a blur of punishments and losses, exaggerated and twisted. The images were all punctuated by a nameless girl, a girl with an innocent smile who laughed and ran. She would appear and all those feelings were pushed aside. The visions, for a moment, didn't matter.

Until she disappeared. Then everything went dark again. Eventually the darkness did not lift, and Cale found himself alone again, walking an empty road, just kicking up dust.

A throbbing pain gripped his left wrist, a tearing and ripping. Cale seized his wrist, hissing, and his eyes snapped open again to darkness. Confusion swept the images out of his mind as he bolted upright and looked around, gaze adjusting. Across he could still see the other bunk bed, its occupants dark and unmoving. _A dream. It was just a dream._ With a sigh Cale leaned back against the wall, already forgetting what he had seen and felt.

"Cale? Are you all-right?" a voice whispered.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound. Cale looked again to see two black eyes watching him from the bottom of the opposite bunk, curious. "What? Wha… yeah… yeah, I'm fine. J-just a dream is all," he muttered back, running a hand through his hair. "Why are you awake?"

The black eyes winked out. "…I don't really sleep much anymore."

Silence returned to the orphanage. The pain effervesced with the fluttering tendrils of the dream. Cale shut his eyes again – and sneezed from the dust.

Dawn came earlier than anyone might have liked – or, for one, might have expected. Cale lay stretched out on the scrap mattress, blissful in his now undisturbed sleep. It was consoling, innocent, peaceful. In short, it made Dover want to puke.

Thus it came to be that the beautiful dreamer was awoken by the tip of his own shoe colliding with his back. Cale snorted awake, looking wildly over the railing – only to take the opposite shoe to the nose. His response could be noted only as something resembling "Ackfuhit".

"Top of the morning, Your Grace!" Dover crowed, pulling on the bunk. "Wouldn't want to miss your big day, would you, Mr. Hero?"

Cale shot Dover a weary-eyed glare then glanced out the window – which was still dark. "Wha - where's the sun? What time is it?"

"Time for you to get off your pompous ass, O Glorious One," he chortled.

With many a dark thought, Cale pulled on his shoes and shirt and swung a leg over the side of the bunk. Dover stepped back just in time as Cale missed his footing and slammed to the floor.

"Well, that's comforting," Dover drawled. "Guess there's no reason to fret then, with you here to save me and all."

Cale felt blood rise to his cheeks as quickly as he rose to his feet. "Hey listen, I came here for Tai, alright? I don't owe you anything."

Dover just flashed a saturnine grin and shrugged. "Your call. Nobody asked you to do anything. But if it's the spotlight you want, I think you've got it."

Cale sighed. _It's too early for this._ Change the subject quick. "Where's Tai and Cody?" he asked, eyes darting to the empty bunk.

" _Taylor_ and our illegitimate ward are in the kitchen getting breakfast. They should be back-"

"-now," Taylor finished, pushing past the rickety door carrying two bowls. Cody tagged along at his heels, desperately juggling two bowls as well. Dover swooped down and snatched up one of the bowls just as the boy looked ready to topple.

"I didn't know you could carry two! Are you getting bigger? Come here, you, let me see…" Dover exclaimed all in a rush, tugging Cody by the sleeve. Cody smiled as Dover turned him about, looking him over. "I think you are! You need to stop getting taller, you'll be bigger than me soon. Might just have to slug you for that." Dover tapped the boy on the shoulder and Cody burst into giggles.

A hint of laughter lit Taylor's face as he handed Cale a bowl. "Here… best I can do…" The glow faded.

Cale looked down at the bowl, and for a moment had to decipher what exactly he was seeing. The substance in the bowl was one of the foulest colors he had ever seen, and had pretty much no smell – either aroma or odor. He found it hard to describe except as indescribable.

"Uh… thanks. I think. Do I want to know what's in this?"

"Best not to ask," Dover replied from his seat on the bunk, voice garbled through a mouthful of the pasty substance. "Been eating it for years… you stop caring." He swallowed, and his face suddenly broke into a grin. "I hear it works great as shampoo, doesn't it, Taylor? Oh man, the look on your face, it still kills me…" Dover choked with laughter.

Cale raised a brow as Taylor sighed, poking at his bowl, still standing. "… We won't bring up all the ways Dover tormented me when I got here. The list just keeps going," he grumbled.

"Aw, come on, I was just messing with you. You would have made fun of yourself, too, if you saw how piss scared you looked all the time-"

"Just shut up and eat, alright?" Taylor snapped. "This is going to be a long day."

Cale frowned down at his "breakfast", paling. _Can't disagree with that._

* * *

"So what exactly is wrong with this thing, anyway?"

Cale stood surveying the archaic junk of machinery, hands on his hips, the blades of the windmill spinning against the overcast sky. The sun never rose, its rays hidden behind a thick layer of crabbed storm clouds. A deathly breeze shook the crooked bones of the skeletal windmill. Cale rubbed his hands together, the metal ring chilling his palm.

The slave master came up next to Cale, arms folded. "That, Mr. Tucker, is for you to find out. I didn't agree to give you no hints 'bout it."

 _Okay. Great._ "Well, do I at least get tools to work with or something?" Cale asked, hands dropping to his sides.

The man barked a laugh. "You can work with your bare hands for all I care. Tho' I don't doubt one of the whelps will help you, no matter." He turned his head. " _You!_ Who told you to stand there?" he bellowed at Taylor, who was standing at the edge of the field watching them.

Taylor stepped back. "No one, sir, I-"

"Shut up and go get the toolkit, then get to work, there's nothin' to stare at!" he roared. For a moment, Taylor didn't move. "NOW!" Taylor took another step backwards and ran off. He stood watching, then shook his head, chuckling. "Slow, that one," he said to Cale. He winked. "But nothing a little rawhide couldn't fix." He walked away, laughing to himself, calling over his shoulder: "You have until twilight."

Cale glared at the slave driver's retreating back, teeth gritting. " _Don't worry. I won't need the extra time_ ," he hissed, out of earshot. He turned back to the task at hand, taking in the situation. One glance told him he was working with simple machinery; craning his neck to take a look in, he could see the mechanisms above that should turn a pulley, leading down to what seemed to be a sort of pump and generator. The bottom of the windmill structure was boarded off to protect the machinery, and a series of pipes came out from any side, quickly hidden in the dirt and sand. Cale put it together as some sort of makeshift irrigation system, long out of order.

Taylor came up just then, a packet of tools under one arm. He looked about anxiously, handing the heavy toolkit to Cale. "Are you sure you can do this?"

Cale tried to give a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I can fix this… I just need a little time."

Frowning, Taylor searched his friend's face, a ghost's face lost to memory for four years.

"… Why are you doing this? This is bullshit," he bit out, breathing increasingly erratic. "You think this is a game, that you can just play around with this. Like you can charge in and everything will be better. How much of what you're doing is in the interest of us? Or are you, once again, just thinking of yourself? Trying to help your guilty conscience?"

Cale blinked, mouth ajar, the toolkit clutched in one hand. "No… I…"

Taylor shook his head, holding his arms. "Just… if you're going to do anything… then just get out of here. Alright? This is your last chance. Don't do this. You don't owe me anything. You already saved me once… you can't save me now."

Cale set his jaw, eyes narrowing. "I'm not leaving."

He stood staring for a moment, furious. "Fine," Taylor spat, then with a growl of frustration walked away. Head down, slumped, broken, as always.

Dover stood waiting by the slaves' quarters. Taylor glanced up at him, hollow black eyes seething out of the shadows. Dover smiled as Taylor drew near. "You know who he reminds me of?"

Taylor scowled, not bothering to look back. "Who?"

"You. You're both completely delusional."

* * *

Concentration was hard to come by as the hours passed. Quite possibly the only one doing their job was Cale, who hadn't so much as twitched in his attention. Mechanics was what he was best at and he knew it well. Yet tensions were still running high, and many an empty disagreement broke out from the anxiety punctuating the crackling air.

It was clear to Cale, as time went by and the sky rumbled, that the damage was worse than he thought. He tried to start simple with repairing the snapped pulley, but that only led to locked, rusty mechanisms. Tearing at the sprockets and gears was scraping his hands raw. Reassembling the gears only led to disassembling the clogged pump, mucked with stagnant, moldy water. Even if he could overcome the disgusting chore of cleaning out the pipes, for the life of him he couldn't get the generator to budge. A lot of the hardware was warped in places from exposure to the sun. The generator seemed to run from the turning of a series of pistons, all of which had welded to the casings, bone dry of oil. It didn't take long for Cale, short as his temper was and increasingly aware of the time, to become annoyed and desperate. With evening coming on, Cale switched to his last resort: he kicked the crap out of the machine.

Uncontrollable, Cody sat watching at a distance, wringing his hands. When Dover came by, Cody looked up, round face plaintive. "He'll make it, won't he?"

Dover looked out over the field, watching Cale collapse in front of his work, head on his hand. He frowned. "I don't know."

Cale took a deep breath, again muttering reassurances. "I can do this… I just need to relax is all… relax…" But he found it harder to relax as it became harder to see. He was close, so close, he knew he was. There was something missing, something he was overlooking. Struggling with it became listless; his hands fumbled. Even bypassing the circuits was hopeless. _What am I missing?_

Out of the corner of his eye he could see lights starting to flick on in the manor. It was beginning to drizzle. Cale rubbed at his arms, glancing up at the sky, miniscule droplets stinging his eyes. He learned against the windmill, exhausted, eyelids drooping. Time was almost up; it was ticking down already. _No, I can't quit. I have to prove this._ His eyes closed. _I… can't…_

"… fail."

* * *

He opened his eyes. Everyone stood staring at him where he sat slumped against the outside wall of the shack. He blinked around, shivering in his soaked clothing. It was past twilight, and there was a morose gloom over the group. Taylor's hung face was cast in shadow beneath his hair. Cody clutched at Dover's leg looking frightened. Dover's expression, for once, was completely empty. For a moment Cale wondered if he had died and this was his funeral. But then why did it hurt so badly?

Cale looked up at the smug grin of the slave master standing beside his wife. "Well, Mr. Tucker, time's up. How did you do?" His wife smiled.

He drew a deep, rattling breath. "I… I didn't… I couldn't get it to work. But I can. There's something missing with the generator. If I… if I just had a little more time…"

"That wasn't part of our agreement, boy. You told me you could have it running before twilight and you couldn't do it."

" _No!_ I need more time! Please, just, give me more time…"

"Bet's a bet. Maybe next time you won't barter with your life. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough that it's not such an easy thing to just… throw away."

Cale stared blankly at him. _This can't be happening… I can't believe this…_ A flash caught his eye, and all attention turned to the mistress.

Between her dainty fingers she held up a circuit board, crudely torn away. The metal and wires glimmered in the yellow light filtering from the door of the shack. Her cold blue eyes shone as she looked at the missing piece.

Her husband squinted at it, his composure shaken for a moment. "What is that? Where did you…"

"That's it, isn't it?" Taylor growled, head tilting up and bangs falling away. "The piece Cale is missing? You took it, didn't you?" His fists clenched.

The mistress grinned, and then her flowery lips sank into a pout. "I am sorry, boys," she cooed. "But I just couldn't have him stealing you away." At the last few words her eyes flashed a sinister glance towards Cale.

Cale scrambled to his feet, staring at the circuit board in disbelief. " _What?_ That… that's not fair! That's cheating!" He looked to the amused face of the slave master. "Did you know?"

"Well… I knew she might… _favor_ the chattels," he purred.

"Then you tricked me!"

"You could say that." He shrugged, grinning.

Cale shook his head violently. "No, no way, then, the bet's off, I want another chance…"

"You don't get another chance!" he snapped. "Game's over. Face it… you lost."


	13. Chapter XII - Enantiodromia

Outlines blurred together as rain continued to fall, washing out discernment until all became one shadow. He stood watching the world melt together, looked down to see himself flowing into it, soaked through. The flickering light from the window behind spilt out onto the ground about the twisted, swirling shadows. Following the patterns back he turned his head, his long bangs dripping into his eyes. Faintly, beyond the metallic pounding of rain on the rooftops, he heard his name. Without a second glance, he stepped back into the dorm.

Lit candles were placed randomly about the small space. The light bulb was now only a few shards of glass clinging to a frayed cord, the shattered remains of a short-lived outburst. Taylor glanced down at the sparkle of candlelight reflecting off the scattered glass strewn across the dirt floor.

"There you are. We thought you were trying to drown yourself," Dover remarked, voice somewhat strained from the shouting match that had resulted in the untimely demise of the light bulb. He pulled away from Cody's bunk, where the three-year-old sat rubbing tears from his eyes.

Without glancing up, Taylor asked, "Where's Cale?"

"Right here," came the muffled response. He was hiding away on the other top bunk, voice worn out. The fight had been beaten away and the self-assured lies unraveled.

Taylor contemplated retiring to his own bunk, to forget and dream away all of this. As he gazed at his own bloodstained mattress, he saw himself moving on. He felt the emotional tick of regret add on to a long line on a mental wall; saw them fading back into that existence as if nothing had changed; heard their last breaths in turn, until the slow heartbeats faded into silence...

He looked away. "Cale..." His voice was subdued, mellow. A washed out, plaintive cry. "Cale... I'm ready to go now."

Dover sighed. "Leave him alone, Taylor. Just sit down." He collapsed beneath Cale's bunk, hand pulled over his face.

Taylor stepped forward, glass shards crunching under his feet. "Cale..." He stood in front of the bunk, giving Cale a light shove on the side. "Cale. Come on. I'm ready to go. I want to go home. Please take us home."

Cale stirred, shifting away from him. "Quit it, Tai," he muttered.

Taylor just stood there, eyes unfocused. His hand slipped off the railing.

He let go into a deep, face-splitting scream.

All at once Dover struck his head on the wood, Cale spun around, and Cody clutched at his tiny ears. The scream held and died away. Tai opened his eyes, contorted muscles shifting back into place. They were all staring at him as his hands curled up into fists at his side, shaking. His whole body trembled, the candlelight sparks dancing in his eyes.

There was a pause, a tense and drawn-out silence. "No," he bit out at last. "I won't do this anymore. I can't go on like this. Not anymore."

Cale tilted his head. "Tai... I gave that guy my word... I lost. It's over. You know how it goes."

He glared at Cale, teeth gritting. "You... you... _I warned you_. I tried to warn you." His heart was pounding in his ears, punctuating his words like a drum.

"What are you playing at, Taylor?" Dover interjected. "What d'you want us to do, huh?"

"We're getting out of here. All of us. Now," he growled, looking at each of them in turn. "I have a plan... there's something I have to do before we go. But I'm gonna need your help."

Dover began to laugh. "'Help'! No, I'm done. You're FUCKING NUTS." He jumped to his feet in front of Taylor, who did not flinch. Irritated, Dover swung back his hand.

Dover was slammed against the bunk with a crack, Taylor's hands clenched around his throat. Taylor's lips were curled into a snarl, watching Dover struggle for a moment. Underneath his palms he felt Dover's veins pump and saw terror flash across his wide eyes. "That's why this is going to work, Dover," he whispered at length. "And why you're going to help me." He let go.

Dover gasped and staggered against the frame, massaging his throat. Cale swore, pressed against the back wall in alarm. For a brief second the room flashed, burning silhouettes into their eyes as they stared at Taylor, white-knuckled and panting. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

No one spoke as he caught his breath, looking away if they saw him staring back. "What I need you to do," he began, with less ferocity now. "is create a distraction. A diversion – god –anything, I don't know, just do it. Just to buy us time. I think I can handle the rest."

"'The rest'?" Cale spoke up. "What do you-"

"If I don't make it," Taylor interrupted loudly, moving on. "You guys take off without me. Either way we'll meet up at the trees."

"And then what? We can't take the road, we'll never make it back to the city."

"The canyons," Dover muttered, dropping his hands. "We can go through the canyons. They won't check there, at least not right away."

The room flashed once more, and the thunder succeeding it came quicker and louder. Cale bit his lip, glanced back at Taylor, still standing resolute in the middle of the room. "How can you be so sure we can pull this off?"

Taylor smiled, tilting his head downward a little towards the broken shards. " _We_ have nothing to lose."

* * *

They stood together underneath the scant overhang of the roof, water pouring off the edge. Cody clung to Dover's shoulder, trying to take shelter under his hand. Cale peered out from under the hood of his sweatshirt, though there was nothing to be seen.

"What's going on?" Cody asked, tugging on Dover's shirt. "What's wrong with Uncle? He's scary."

Dover sighed, glancing down at Cody's wide, miscolored eyes. "Taylor's going to be okay, Cody. Everything's going to be okay. I just... I need you to stay with me right now, alright? We'll see Taylor later."

Cody nodded, setting his head against Dover's shoulder. Dover hesitated for a moment, then grabbed Cale's sleeve with his free hand, pulling him obstinately towards the manor.

"Whoa, wait a minute, where are we going?" Cale pushed Dover's hand off his sleeve, picking up the pace on his own.

"To create a diversion," Dover replied sharply. He was shifting through memories fast, uncovering a part of himself he had almost forgotten, the echo of a boy who would know exactly what to do. He let the faces and voices guide him, Cale tagging along lost in confusion, until they stood outside the padlocked door of the freestanding garage.

Dover glanced from the lock to Cale, making a vain attempt at blinking the rain from his eyes. "Got any bright ideas on this one?"

"Me? Uh..." Cale took a closer look at the heavy, rusted chains, studying the lock. He then began rummaging through his pockets, pulling out an assortment of credits and soggy lint. He was just stowing it back, growling impatiently, when his hand struck something metallic and sharp. Cale pulled out a length of thick wire he had hastily stowed away only hours before as he toiled away at the rigged bet.

Fumbling he began to twist the wire inside the lock. Dover glanced nervously over his shoulder as a light flicked on in the manor. " _Come on, hurry up, hurry up_!" he hissed.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Cale snapped back. "All this rain, I can't... damn!" The wire slipped out of his hand, lost in a void of mud. Frustrated he punched the lock. It snapped open.

"Yes! Well come on, move!" Dover cried, tearing the chains off the doors and swinging them open. Cale scrambled to his feet and hurried inside.

An old truck sat dejectedly at the end of the garage, half covered with a rotting cloth and leaning on a flattened tire. Tools and wires lined the walls above dusty boxes and canisters. The whole shed reeked of mildew and swollen wood as the storm leaked through cracks in the roof, forming little rivers and pools on the dirt floor.

"Okay, there's gotta be something here we can use," Dover said, setting Cody down and heading to the wires on the wall. "When we were kids we used to come in here all the time to play jokes on each other, and Master sometimes, even if he didn't really think they were funny."

Cale took to looking over the farming tools, running his hand over a shovel. Cody was patting the boxes, rubbing the dust from the labels, though he couldn't read them anyway.

Brow creased in thought, Dover glanced down for a moment to watch Cody, who had just swept the veil aside from an old canister of motor fuel. Dover kicked the dirt, muttering to himself. "Damn, I'd _kill_ for a smoke right about now."

He stopped. Glancing back at the gasoline, Dover broke into a grin. "Wait... I think I've got an idea."

* * *

Finding the back door locked, Taylor stepped back a little, clenched his jaw, and threw his shoulder against it. Far off he felt pain slap against the side of his body. The door began to splinter around the old bolt as he continued to swing himself at it, and with a final heave it flung open. He fell down against the kitchen floor, striking his head on the linoleum. With a hiss he blinked the shock out of his eyes and quickly pushed himself up, looking around, eyesight straining in the darkness.

Counters, drawers, and shelves wrapped around the kitchen walls and appliances. Old food stains littered the floor and visible spaces on the walls. A closed door in the back wall lead out to the dining room, while another on the end of the right wall to the hall. There were nicks and scrapes on the wooden cabinets, and pots and dishes of all sorts were scattered, dirty, around the sink and stove. The stuffy room carried a musty, pungent odor, and Taylor wrinkled his nose as he got up and stumbled against the island in the center of the room.

Always a hopeless cook, he had no sense of direction as to where things were placed. Squinting and growling to himself, he moved frantically from one drawer and cabinet to the next, studying the contents just long enough to fling it shut and move on.

He was tearing through the kitchen at such a speed he almost missed what he was looking for. As he pulled open the drawer he caught the faint gleam of dozens of cooking knives piled on top of each other.

Taylor began picking the knives out carefully, feeling the weight of them in his hand, studying the edges. He would do this and toss each one back, disgruntled, until he found the knife. It was a carving knife with an eight-inch blade. He pulled it out, eyeing it for a moment, and set the long blade against the side of his hand. Pressing down, he watched a perfectly straight, red line bubble up along the edge. He pulled the knife away, blinking at the sharp cut. He clenched his fist, watching the blood run down. For a brief moment, he smiled.

Footsteps moved across the floor upstairs. Taylor's head jerked up to the ceiling, ears catching the sound of muffled voices. He turned back to the door leading outside. Water had begun to spill across the floor, and in his haste to leave he almost slipped. Steadying against the doorframe with his free hand, he pushed himself outside, stumbling into the mud. Lights were on in the manor now, and with a sting of panic he looked around for somewhere to run. Unable to decide he flattened himself against the side of the building, heart pounding in his ears and rain striking his head and arms.

In the kitchen, Taylor could hear a door slam open. Heavy footsteps crossed the linoleum, and a gruff voice swore. There was a pause, and the footsteps ran towards the door. Taylor felt his heart jump into his throat, and stayed just long enough to see his master come tumbling into the dirt after slipping on the wet floor.

Taylor flung himself in front of the porch, crouching down near the edge, both hands clutching the handle of the knife down against the ground. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. A gnawing rage began to work its way up, clawing into his veins, sensing the man closing in on him. It shook his arms and seemed to split open every part of his body in blinding pain, echoes of wounds dealt. He let the anger consume him, curling his spine, flooding his vision and ripping his insides. The knife moved behind his back as he stood up to come face to face with the man.

Dripping mud and water, the master stood in front of his slave, aggravated at being out in this storm and surprised at finding the boy so immediately. The surprise wore off quickly and the man snarled.

"What the hell are you doing, boy? What'd you do to the kitchen door?" He shouted, gesturing wildly. The boy stood silent, still smiling, looking up to meet the man's livid eyes. Frustrated, the man grabbed Taylor by the collar of the shirt, shaking him. "Answer me, you piece of shit!" Taylor began to laugh hysterically, giving no discernable reply and with a bellow the man flung him against the dirt.

"I shoulda killed you when I had the chance, you little fuck!" he seethed. The boy's laughter was choked with coughs and gags, sprawled on the dirt with his arms tucked underneath him. The man bent down and grabbed the back of Taylor's shirt. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"... yeah. You should have," Taylor said, and within a second had spun his whole body around, swinging his feet against the side of his master's head.

He staggered sharply to the right and fell. Taylor sprung up after him, completely engulfed now. Again Taylor kicked the man in the chest, ignoring the pain that shot up from his toes to his leg. The man coughed, pushing himself up to lean his back against the side of the house.

Taylor stood looking down at his former master. Another flash of lighting glinted off the edge of the knife that hung from his right hand. His face melted from a snarl to a manic grin. "Now it's my turn."

The man's eyes darted to the knife, and for the first time Taylor saw fear in him. "What are you doing with that thing? P-put that down," he sputtered, the anger and irritation draining out of his voice as fear seized him. He made to stand up, but Taylor leapt forward, slamming him back against the wall. The man's head connected with a thud, and for a moment his vision blacked out.

Taylor's snarling face was now very close to the man's. He could see the rain dripping down the man's face, mixing with sweat and blood. He could hear the rattling breaths. "How does it feel now? Pretty shitty, huh?" Taylor whispered. Getting no reply, he leaned in closer. "It's worse. Oh, so much worse than that." Idly he raised the knife and began to slowly swipe it across the man's skin in a line. On the first lick of pain the man made a startled movement forward but Taylor pressed the knife against the man's throat, and the body froze. He pressed harder, until blood ran watery across the blade of the knife. The man cried out and made to push the knife away, but Taylor leaned backwards and thrust the knife straight through the man's left shoulder, driving him back against the wall, both hands clenched on the handle.

The man screamed, his voice sinking into a clap of thunder. Taylor continued to clutch the handle of the knife with one hand, leaning his other hand against the opposite shoulder, shoving the knife further in until it would not move. He let go and held his hands against the man's chest as the man groped for the handle, the heartbeat explosive under Taylor's palms. He panted, shaking violently, and watched until the man looked up into his eyes again. "That's for her," he whispered.

Suddenly the night was ablaze. Taylor's head swung back over his shoulder, and they both watched as flames burst out the windows of the barn, smoke billowing up into the stormy sky. As they watched, the buildings began to catch one by one. Taylor moved away.

" _You... you'll never make it out of here alive_ ," the man spluttered, gripping the dirt, blood leaking from his nostrils. "I'll find you. I'll find you and kill you all, you little bast-" His words were choked off with a cry of pain as he clawed at his shoulder, legs scraping the ground.

Taylor stared down at him, expression stony. "Not if I've killed you first." He looked down at his hands, covered in blood, up to the numbers on his left wrist. He paused, and held them out for the man to see. "These... are not... me. I have a name. It's Tai."

With that he turned and ran, disappearing into the shadows.


	14. Chapter XIII - The Center of the Sun

Their feet dug holes in the muddy ground as they ran through the field, crushing the drowned plants beneath them. The rain and earth mixed and swirled together, until the ground seemed to melt and flow, stirred alive. It conspired against their escape, clawing at their legs, tripping them. Cale blinked soil out of his eyes, reminded oddly of the mud pits back home. Dover clutched Cody tightly against his chest. He stumbled and Cody gave an anxious shriek.

"Hold on, we're almost there!" Dover cried, as much to reassure Cody as himself.

"Where are we going?" Cale asked, glancing only for moment in case he lost his footing.

"Melody's grave," Dover replied. "If he's waiting for us, he'll be there."

The blaze sank back behind them, blurry spots of light in the distance. They neared a patch of trees, stripped bare from disease and heat. As they came closer they saw a dark shape huddled underneath the largest of the trees. It was half swallowed by mud and drenched with rain. Dover handed Cody to Cale, who fumbled to get a proper hold. Ignoring Cale's protests, Dover walked forward and knelt next to the figure.

"Taylor? Come on, we gotta go," Dover said, putting his hand on Taylor's back. He sat with his knees pressed into the earth, doubled over. His hair fell into the mud at the foot of the tree. Dover could hear what sounded like whispering, but could not make it out. "Get up! We don't have time for this. We gotta go now."

There was a momentary brilliance in the night. Cale looked back at the farm to see a fireball exploding out of the spot where the kitchen had been. "Uh, Dover…"

"I know, I know! Mind giving me a hand here or what?" Dover snapped back. He turned his attention back to Taylor's shivering, muttering form. "Taylor…" Dover began pulling on the back of Taylor's shirt, but he was cast off.

"I just… wanted to say goodbye," Taylor muttered, face lifting away from the dirt. Cale hovered uneasily as Dover helped pull Taylor to his feet. He swayed for a moment, and then pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Alright. Let's go."

* * *

Cody clutched his arms around Dover's neck and craned his neck up. The walls of the canyon arched high above them, a crack like an endless lightning bolt splitting open the roof. Rain trickled down the roughly hewn rock, pooling into a continuous stream flowing past their wading feet. Tai led the group in silence. Cale followed at the rear, holding a makeshift torch. Their shadows danced eerily on the glittering walls. After a while, Cale spoke up.

"So, uh… where are we going now?" Cale asked, voice echoing. Dover glared back at Cale and frowned.

"We're hiding," Taylor replied, not bothering to turn his head. "There is a cave here I stayed in years ago, when I ran away. It's dry, at least. We'll stay there until the storm passes."

The current began to pick up, the water level rising. They slipped and stumbled as they trudged forward, scraping their hands and knees on the rocks. Finally, Taylor stopped.

"Here. It's here," he said, pointing up to a narrow opening above the water, which was now rising above their waists. Taylor climbed up into the opening, turning to take Cody away from Dover so he could follow. Cale stood watching, holding the torch above the water. The flame was flickering about wildly. He heard a muffled roar moving towards them.

"You might want to climb faster…" Cale said.

"What's the rush, Hero? Water too cold for you?" Dover grunted, hauling himself up into the cave. Cale began to follow, clutching at the wall with his free hand.

"You guys, I think-" Cale began to say, but was drowned out by the roar reverberating through the canyon. Dover looked out of the cave just as a rush of water overtook Cale, plunging them all into darkness. Cody screamed.

"Cale!" Taylor shouted. He tried to shove his way back out of the cave, but was pushed back by Dover. "Get out of the way!" he snarled.

"Just hold on a sec'!" Dover snapped. His eyes strained to see in the dark. The roar was fading, but water was still rushing underneath the cave entrance, splashing water onto Dover's hands. "Hey! Are you there?"

There was a pause, then a coughing and spluttering. Cale was clinging to the wall, pulling himself slowly up above the water. Dover reached his hand out, groping until he found Cale's arm. He pulled Cale the rest of the way into the cave, Cody and Taylor shuffling back to make room. Cale lay on the floor, coughing.

"Is Cay-el okay?" Cody's voice rang out.

"Yeah… I'm… fine," Cale wheezed, pushing himself to his knees. He made to stand up but rapt his head on the ceiling, sending him back into a kneel. "Lost the… torch though."

"I can see that," Dover snorted.

"We'll just wait until dawn, then… we should be safe in here," Taylor sighed.

"G'night, then. No one else drown until I wake up," Dover said.

"Will Uncle sing me a bedtime song?" Cody whimpered.

"Aww, do I have to?"

"Please? I'm sc-scared."

"Alright, alright, come here. Now let me think…"

Cale found a spot opposite the others and sat against the wall, leaning his head back. He could hear Dover starting to sing softly.

_Little girl was down by the waterside_

_Sun so hot and the roses so red where she lie_

_As little boys sit and watch as she twirls all around_

_Sunny smiles, not a rain cloud could bring that girl down_

_But now, what's behind those big brown eyes_

_Do you dream at night without your lullaby_

_Little boy sits alone as he sings in the dark_

_Wondering if his own dreams had pulled them apart_

_Sings a song of tomorrow he never can see_

_Mostly sings of a lost little girl's memory_

_And now as his dreams go flashing by_

_He begins to hear a lonely lullaby_

_Well now we used to sing, and we used to cry_

_Through everything in our children's lullaby_

_Little girl on the street with nobody around_

_Has her head in the air, dirty feet on the ground_

_Shuts her eyes and she wonders is this a mistake_

_Now she's gone from the warmth of the little boy days_

_And still she believes that she'll get by_

_On her own without a little boy's lullaby_

_Little boy prays to God to answer his song_

_To hold her hand when everyone else's are gone_

_Time goes by and the wounds slowly turn into scars_

_So he makes his final wish on the midnight stars_

_He screams, little girl won't you hear my cry_

_Won't you come back home to your lover's lullaby_

_Little girl down by the waterside_

_Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye…_

Dover's voice faded out, leaving only the sound of the water trickling outside the cave.

"…Wow. Didn't know you could sing, if that's what that was," Cale whispered.

"Hey, shut your face."

"Where'd you learn that, anyway?"

"My… mother used to sing it to me." Cale noticed his voice was choked with a mixture of sadness and anger.

"Really? I don't really… remember my mother. She died when I was Cody's age."

"I don't want to remember her," Dover muttered. "She left me with my father. He's the reason I'm here, that hunching bastard… what parent sells their child?"

"I… I don't know. A desperate one?"

"Shit." His feet scraped against the rock. "We could have made it just fine! We always made it just fine."

With what little light there was, Cale could see the glint of the ring on his finger. "Think I know what you mean."

"Heh, really? Parents… who needs 'em. I mean, look at the kid. He's got neither and he's doin' just fine." He ruffled Cody's hair, fast asleep against Dover's side. "Damn I wish I had a smoke… looks like I'm quitting," he mumbled.

Cale smiled, though he knew no one could see it. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For helping me out back there."

"Oh. No problem. I just wouldn't have been able to stand Taylor's bitching if you drowned or something."

Cale laughed quietly to himself.

"I really hope this works," Dover muttered, voice taking on a more vulnerable tone. "I… I can't go back there. Never again. I don't care if we find freedom in life or death. Nothing will make me go back there."

The cave fell silent once more. Cale sat for a moment, listening to the water. There was a growing dread, a heaviness in his heart that told him they might not survive this. He was sure they all knew this, even Cody. Cale knew their attempt was like an animal chewing its foot out of a trap. They had made it this far, but he felt it was only a matter of time until the hunters caught up; and this time, there would be no trap. Just a shot between the eyes.

* * *

Cale was awakened several hours later by a sharp kick in the shins. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! You got ten seconds before we leave without ya."

He blinked his eyes open and glared at Dover. "Watch where you aim those kicks, asshole," he muttered, stirring.

"Oh, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the cave," Dover scoffed, turning away.

"Well that happens when you spend all night sleeping with a rock stuck up your-"

"Are you done?" Taylor twisted his head around from where he sat at the edge of the cave. "We've got to move. It'll be light soon." He turned away and jumped down out of sight.

Dover rolled his eyes. "Just a ray of sunshine, isn't he?" He gestured to Cody, who was sitting and staring off into space. "Come on, Cod', let's go." Cody blinked and crawled after Dover, climbing down out of the cave. Cale stretched, muttered to himself, and followed.

The canyon was filled with a deep navy glow, just enough light to look around. The storm had passed and the flood with it, leaving only a film of water trickling down the canyon bottom. Taylor stood with his back to the others.

Cale jumped down beside Dover and Cody, the pebbles clicking together under his shoes. He gave his damp pants a tug. "Well, this feels just a little awkward."

Dover glanced over at him and grinned. "Won't get any drier standing around here, will you?" He took Cody's hand walked up to Taylor, Cale following, disgruntled.

"So where to, oh bold leader?" Dover asked, peering around to look at Taylor's face.

He stared blankly ahead to where the canyon twisted up and out of sight. "I don't care," he replied, almost monotone. "Just as long as it's far from here."

"Tek could probably help us," Cale volunteered. "He might, uh… be a little upset, but…"

"What do we need a technician for?" Dover asked, irritated.

"No, he's my… well, me and Tai, our guardian. He's in the city right now."

"Can he get us out of here?"

"Well sure, but…"

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's move!" Dover began to march forward, tugging on Cody's hand. Taylor followed as if lead by a string. Cale jogged to catch up and slowed next to Taylor. He looked over Taylor's clothing, which was soaked and splattered with mud, water, and something dark. He looked up to Taylor's face, which was almost hidden beneath his bangs.

"Tai? What did you do last night?" Cale asked slowly.

He stopped, a grimace flashing across his face. "… Something I needed to do."

Everyone else stopped to stare back at him. "Like what?" Dover prodded. Taylor didn't respond. Dover stared for a moment, looking Taylor over, who had started to shake. "Jesus. Please don't tell me you did something really stupid."

"What? What did Uncle do?" Cody bleated, tugging on Dover's hand.

"I had to do it, Dover… I just had to…"

"Oh, bullshit! Did you think killing him is going to make everything all better? That it's going to bring her back?" Dover snarled, voice escalating. "Well it's not going to happen, Taylor! They're DEAD!" Taylor flinched. "Dead, and they're not coming back! Not Melody, or Nekane, or Ric, or… or Kaelin… they're gone! Nothing's going to make that all better!"

"I KNOW!" Taylor yelled back, cutting him off. "I just… I… I could never be free, knowing that he's still out there. I had to show him. I had to show him what he did to us."

Dover stared at Taylor, scowling, then turned away and began to walk again. Cody followed reluctantly. Cale looked back and forth between the two of them.

"Is it true? Did you really kill that guy?" Cale asked, incredulous.

Taylor gazed down at the ground, watching the water flow around the rocks. "I don't know. I wanted to, Cale. I tried." He began to walk again.

Cale stared at Taylor's back, and thought of the scars crisscrossing underneath. He thought of the screams he had heard beneath the window, the sheer terror and pain turned into a sound, the way it pierced into his soul. He thought of Cody, a child who didn't even know what parents were. For a moment he felt he understood. _I would have killed him. I would have torn him apart._ With a sigh, he began to follow after, the sky lightening above them.

* * *

The backwater planet never really received any attention from any particular galactic empire, and thus had been left to fester in its own cosmopolitan population. An aristocracy of landowners composed the upper crust of society, the wealthiest at the forefront. Except as a stopover for travelers, the planet ran free of foreign contamination. All species ran by the rule of the wealthy; species did not matter much as long as one had the cash to back it. This atmosphere had a natural allure to outcasts seeking refuge and success, as well as the general scum. Downtown was home to all the debtors, drug lords, prostitutes, and slavers that could coexist in one space. Here you kept your eyes down, or you'd end up dead or on the auction block. The only thing the aristocracy cared to protect was their own property and profit. Everyone and everything else were on their own.

The small group of runaways huddled together as they walked down the city street, making sure to keep their eyes on the sidewalk. All except for Cale, whose curiosity was too overwhelming and pride too strong. He tagged along, glancing about at the bars on the windows, the hollow eyes of the city inhabitants. Eye contact would be returned with a threatening snarl or dead glare. Cale clutched his fists and looked away.

"Just a couple more blocks," Cale said to the others, dodging out of the way of a sauntering alien that cursed as it went past.

"Stop fidgeting, Cale," Dover hissed. "You want to get us killed?"

"Sorry. This place just really puts me on edge," Cale muttered, blinking at a group of prostitutes who waved as they walked by. Cale blushed and turned his gaze to the ground.

After a few blocks, they found themselves in front of a traveler's hotel. The clean, bright atmosphere of the inside might have seemed out of place, if it wasn't for the bars on the windows. Cale stopped. "This is it, I think."

Everyone stopped to glance up at the hotel. "Nice. Now what? We can't exactly waltz into a place like this, can we?" Dover remarked. Taylor twitched nervously as a constabulary walked past, eyeing them suspiciously.

"We're sneaking in," Cale replied. "You guys stay out here, I'll handle this." Making a vain attempt at brushing some of the mud off his clothes, Cale walked forward past the sliding glass doors.

"Great. We're screwed," Dover whistled as the door shut.

The lobby was relatively empty, with the exception of a careworn alien slumped in one of the chairs, and a tall alien behind the front desk. Cale swaggered forward and leaned on the counter. The alien was busily tapping computer screens with each of its six arms. He (at least, as much as he could tell) did not seem to notice him – or, at least, was attempting not to. Cale finally cleared his throat and his head snapped up, eyes narrowed. The arms continued to move on their own. "May I help you, sir?" His nose slits flared in disgust as he took in his bedraggled appearance. Cale grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, uh… my name is uh… Cecil Tennett… you called about a rodent infestation?"

He glared at Cale for a moment, eyes narrowing. "Infestation?" He echoed. "We don't have any sort of infestation, and I certainly don't remember calling _you_."

"Well, uh… you see, I talked to someone in management named…" His eyes darted to a number of staff awards on the wall. "Dynzl, yeah, he gave me a call last night, said it was pretty urgent. Said they were eating into the desks and such. Nasty for business, you know... if they spread to the rooms, what a disaster…"

The alien glanced down at his desk and whipped his arms away, perturbed. "Indeed… well…" He eyed Cale again, weighing the horrible implications of unseen pests against Cale's disturbing appearance. "I'll just go have a word with Mr. Dynzl… if you'll wait here, _sir_ …"

"Thank you very much," Cale called at his back. He watched until the alien disappeared through a staff door and turned, rushing back outside as inconspicuously as possible.

"So?" Taylor asked, voice strained and off pitch.

Cale fumbled around his pockets, pulling out a card key. "I think they're gonna be busy for a little while."

Dover snatched the card out of Cale's hand. "Perfect. Let's get inside." Before Cale could protest, Dover was marching into the hotel. The others hurried after. Cody clutched onto Dover's fingers.

"Where are we going?" Cody asked, craning his neck up to see Dover's face.

"We're gonna see Cale's uncle," Dover replied as they headed for the stairs. "He's gonna help us go away from this place."

"Uncle's uncle? He like Master?"

"No, nothing like Master," Cale interjected from behind.

Cody turned his attention back to Cale, nearly stumbling as they stepped into a lift. "He nice?"

"Of course. Err… well, most of the time. Don't throw away food and he'll like you just fine."

Cody fell silent as he thought over what sort of person this man could be. The lift stopped at the third floor, and they began to walk past doors.

"29, 27, 25…" Dover muttered.

"Here we go," Cale said as they stopped outside room 23C. He rapped his knuckles on the door. "Tek? You in there?"

There was a pause. "Cale? Is that you?" came a muffled voice behind the door.

Cale waved the cardkey over the lock and opened the door. Tek blinked at him from the other side. "Hey, miss me?"

"Cale! What have you been doing? Where have you been?" Tek's hand fumbled through the air until it rested on Cale's sleeve, feeling the mud crusted on the fabric. Cale squeezed into the room, the others following. Tek's yellow eyes widened at the sound of the extra footsteps. "Who's with you, Cale?"

Taylor stared at Tek, heart pounding. He bit his lip. "… H-hi, Tek."

"Is that you, Taylor? Oh my… well, it's good to see you, good to see you again. Best I can see, anyway," he said with a chuckle, running his hand over Taylor's arms and up to his face. "Bit taller than the last time I saw you, hmm, yes, skinnier too… but you were always so thin, what am I saying…" Tek's gaze strayed to Dover and Cody, who blushed and hid behind Dover's leg. "And who else is here?"

Dover stepped forward and took Tek's hand. "Dover's the name, nice to meet you, sir," Dover said with a smile, words smacking of ingrained propriety. Tek reluctantly shook Dover's hand, other hand grazing the numbers on the inside wrist. "The little one is Cody. Say hi, Cody."

Cody glanced out from behind Dover and curled his stubby fingers.

"Well, hello ther— wait, wait a second here." Tek glanced over his shoulder at where Cale now stood. "I thought you were just going to talk, Cale. Did you talk?"

"Err… well yeah, yeah, we talked…"

"And? He just agreed to hand them all over, hmm?"

Cale shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Uh, not exactly… well… you know me, Tek…"

The Vusstran held his brow in his hand. "Ah, Cale, I was afraid of that… so, how long until the police arrive?"

Dover grinned. "Sharp, sir." If possible, Taylor grew a bit paler.

"Well, I figured we'd just camp out here for a bit and uh… haul it back to the _Tau_ , what do'ya think?" Cale strolled into the room, attempting to be casual.

Tek sighed. "So much for the trip… hurry, then, get that door closed…"

Taylor shakily closed and locked the door. Dover nodded to Tek. "Thanks, sir, really appreciate it… hey, nice place you've got here." He turned to look around the room. It was relatively empty, except for a covered balcony in the back, a small table covered with holoscrolls, and a door leading to the restroom. He tapped a panel and a chair slid out of the wall. "Classy," he said, pulling the chair up to the table and flopping down.

Cale, meanwhile, was distracted by the luggage on the far end of the room. "Oh, thank god, dry pants…"

Tek stepped back, bemused. He held out his hand towards Taylor, who was hovering by the door. "Ah, Taylor, may I see you for a moment?"

"… Sure, Tek, what is it?"

For a moment he took in Taylor's appearance with his hands, from the torn and filthy clothing, to the heavily bruised and scarred arms, to the string of numbers etched into the left wrist. Enthralled, he traced the scar lines back on Taylor's arm; he turned to check the boy's back, but Taylor quickly turned away.

Tek stared blankly past Taylor. He was gazing blankly down at the floor, insides twisting in shame. He tried not to see the crinkle in Tek's face. "What have they done to you?" Tek murmured.

"Hey, Tai! Come here!" Taylor flinched and looked up, blinking. Cale waved him over. He shot Tek an apologetic look and walked over to Cale. Before he could get close enough, something hit his face. Startled, he pulled it off to find himself holding a shirt and pants. Cale smiled.

"Figured you might want something else to wear other than… you know, that," Cale said.

Dover tossed aside one of Tek's holoscrolls that he had been reading. "Heeey, got anything in there I could snag, buddy?"

Cale glared, but began to rummage through his suitcase. Taylor backed away, clutching the clothing. He caught sight of Tek staring blindly at him. Alarmed, he turned and darted into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The lock clicked.

He glanced around the small room, taking deep breaths. The clothing he let drop next to the shower. His eyes strayed to a sink on the back wall and the small mirror above it. A passing thought made him remember when he used to sneak into retail bathrooms whenever he visited the city, just for a chance to wash in privacy. How nerve-wracking it had been just to have something as basic as privacy… how he hadn't actually taken a decent shower since… well, he didn't exactly remember. It was getting difficult to remember anything anymore, especially if it went back more than a few years. Again, his eyes strayed to the mirror, and he stepped towards it.

The reflection made him freeze. For a long moment he just stared back at the dead black eyes in the mirror. He watched the hand rise to touch the scar on the right cheek, where he had been hit on the trade station. The hand turned to push a lock of hair behind an ear, and as it turned he saw the numbers, upside-down but as dark as the eyes staring back at him. He gasped and recoiled. Shaking, he glanced at the shower and began to pull off his clothing, still somewhat damp from the mud. He flung them aside, trying to ignore the ominous stains on his shirt, filling his ears with the sound of thunder. He went over to the shower and tapped it on, trying to drown out the sound. He stepped inside and just stood, watching the water swirling around his feet, turning dark from all the caked dirt washing off. The hot water beat down on his head, coursing through his hair. He turned so the water massaged his back and let his thoughts drift into white.

_The starlight gave her face an ethereal white glow, flowing smoothly down her cheeks, tear stained. Her watering eyes twinkled as she smiled, a smile that outshined the brilliance of her silver blonde hair, the strands turning wistfully in the night breeze._

_"Melody…" She turned and looked at him. "One day, I… I swear I'll take you away from here. Far away. Where he won't be able to… hurt you anymore."_

_She smiled and looked away. "You already have, Tai… whenever I look into your eyes, we're far away… everything is so bright…" She looked up at the stars. "When I'm sad… I close my eyes… and I'm there with you. At the center of the sun."_

He opened his eyes. Tears were running down his cheeks, lost in the shower. He breathed a shaky sigh; his chest was tight.

The bathroom door clicked open and he emerged, clean and dry. Dover and Cale were sitting at a circular table, bent over dishes of food. Taylor caught a whiff of it and his stomach growled. For the first time he realized he was starving. Since that day four years ago, this was usually something he ignored.

Dover and Cale looked up. "Hey, there you are. We were starting to think you were trying to-"

"Drown, yeah, I know," Taylor sighed.

Cale shook his head. "I don't know about you, but I've had enough water to last me for a while."

Dover swallowed and gestured to Taylor. "Hey, Taylor, check this out!" He held up a cube of something grayish red. "I have no idea what it is, but it's warm, and spicy, and meaty… did I mention it's meaty?" He began to wave the cube around. "You know you want it, Taylor… the power of the meat compels you…"

Taylor snatched the cube out of Dover's hand. "Where's Tek?" he asked before popping it into his mouth.

"Wen ta go 'et pane tehkets," Cale replied through a mouth full of food.

"Figured it would be less suspicious if we didn't all go. Nice guy. Don't know how you let him get away," Dover added with a sniff.

Taylor sat in the chair next to Dover and began to pick at his food. Suddenly ravenous, he started to shovel it into his mouth. In-between bites he asked, "Where's Co'y?"

Dover jerked his head over to a bed that had been pulled out of the wall. Cody was barely visible, curled up in a nest of blankets. "Ate like an incinerator and fell right to sleep."

Feeling nauseated, Taylor pushed away from the table. He fished for something to say, but only one thing came to mind. "Do you think they'll find us here?"

There was an awkward silence. "Of course not…" Cale begun to say.

"I hope not," Dover corrected. "But it was a long shot in the first place. At least we went down with a fight, huh?" He gave a feeble laugh.

Taylor stared blankly down at the table. "I'm sorry… this was a mistake… we never should have done this…"

Cale threw down his fork. "What, you'd rather be back there?" he snapped. "Pawing all over that shithead and catering to his every whim like a dog? Getting the crap beat out of you all the time for no good reason? Is that what you want, Tai? That sound good to you?"

"I didn't want this, Cale!" Taylor yelled back. "I didn't want any of this! You think you can scold me like you were there, huh? Where were you? Where were you, Cale?"

"Looking for your sorry ass! Though now I think I'm starting to regret it. I should have left you there."

"Hey, I got myself out! You didn't do shit. You've never done anything for me. It's all about you, brilliant Cale Tucker and his genius father. Where's Daddy now?"

Cale's face turned bright red. "You know what, forget it, Tai… just forget it." He stood up, scraping his chair on the floor, and glared down at Taylor. "You're right. The Tai I knew is dead." He stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Cody stirred and blinked. "What's happening?"

"Nothing, Cody. Go back to sleep, okay?" Dover said to him. Cody nodded and turned away.

Taylor stared down at the floor, feeling Dover's stare burning on the back of his head. "What was that all about?" Dover asked, voice low.

"Why do you care?" Taylor muttered.

"Hey, look… I know I said a lot of crap about that guy, but he really does try. It's just not fair to hold the past against him. I don't know what things were like for you two before… you know… but it's a lot to throw away. Jesus, I… I'd hunching kill to see my family again. Just once." Taylor blinked up at Dover in surprise. It was the first time he had heard Dover that close to tears since Kaelin died. "So… so shut up with this bitter crap, okay? It's bad enough we fight all the time without the two of you going at it, too."

Taylor sighed and stood up. "I think I'm going to get to bed. I'm really tired," he mumbled. He wandered next to the bed, pulling an extra blanket off and curling up on the floor with his face hidden.

Dover watched him for a while and gave a long sigh. Slowly, he got up and began to tap out the lights.


	15. Chapter XIV - The Lion's Den

Taylor awoke in the middle of the night. Eyesight blurry, he raised his head and looked around. There was another bed on the other side of him now where Cale was sleeping. Dover was sprawled out on top of the other bed next to Cody, muttering in his sleep. Tek was slumped in a chair by the bathroom, snoring.

He wondered dimly what had woken up him when he heard heavy movement outside the room door. There was a loud knock at the door and he jumped up in alarm. He gave Dover a violent shove. Dover jerked away, about to shout a protest before Taylor clapped his hand over Dover's mouth and pointed at the door. Again there was a booming knock, more urgent this time. The rest of the room stirred awake.

"Huh? Whaz goin' on?" Cale mumbled.

"Shit, shit, shit…" Dover hissed, scooping up Cody. Cody burbled. "Oh man, where do we go?"

Tek grumbled and rose to his feet. "Now, calm down, boys, no reason to panic…"

There was another knock and a muffled call from behind the door. "Police! Open this door at once!"

"No reason to panic, huh?" Dover growled.

"Shh! Quick, get in the other room," Tek whispered. Cale, Taylor, and Dover hurried into the bathroom, closing and locking the door.

There was another knock. "Yes, of course, one moment please!" Tek fumbled for the wall controls and pulled in one of the beds. He went to the door and undid the locks, pulling it open just enough to see out of. "Good evening, officers… what's the trouble?"

Four alien constables stood on the other side of the door. Their faces a bizarre mixture between lizard and antelope, they carried rifles with headlights mounted on top. The front officer looked Tek up and down. "We're searching for a few runaways reported yesterday morning. Human. We got a tip that they were here. Seen them?"

"No, can't say that I have…" he replied, waving a hand in front of his eyes. "Just stopping through the area on my way to Vusstra, only been here a few hours, you see."

"Uh-huh…" the officer remarked dubiously. He craned his thick neck to look over Tek and into the room. He gestured inside with the rifle. "Mind if we take a look?"

"Err, n-no, go right ahead…" Resigned, Tek opened the door to let the officers inside.

Inside the other room, Taylor attempted to hold his breath to stop hyperventilating. Dover had his hand over Cody's mouth, who was awake and close to tears. Cale sat on the floor next to the toilet with his head in his hands. None of them dared to move, straining to hear what was going on.

The officers moved into the room, looking around. One went to the balcony and deactivated the shade. Another looked down at Cale's luggage, poking through it. The head of the group looked to the bathroom door. He tried the handle. Locked.

He looked over to Tek. "What's in here?"

"N-nothing, just the restroom…"

"Locked from the inside?"

"Y-yes, I… I accidentally locked it."

"Is that right…" He made as if to turn away, then spun and struck the handle with the butt of the rifle. Tek flinched. The alien struck the handle again, breaking it off. The other officers raised their rifles as he pushed open the door.

The light on the top of the rifle flicked on. The spotlight drifted across the tiled floor, then scrolled over the end of a shoe. The circle of light rose to take in the pale squinting faces of all four runaways.

"Out! Now!" the alien bellowed. They hesitated. He aimed the rifle at Cody, who squealed. "Move it!"

They moved slowly out past the officer into the room. Abruptly, the others stepped forward and grabbed Cale, Taylor, and Dover. Dover struggled and Cody fell. The boy crawled under a table as Dover was wrestled and slammed against the wall with the others.

"Stay facing the wall! Don't make me shoot you."

The other officers began to search the three. They grabbed Taylor and Dover's wrists and turned them up to show the numbers. "This is them," one said.

Taylor began to shake violently. Dover glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "Taylor! Stop!" he hissed. Taylor whimpered.

Suspicious, one of the officers began to search Taylor, patting down his legs. He lifted the back of Taylor's shirt and whistled. "Hey, hey guys, take a look at this."

Curious, the others looked over. The head officer lifted his rifle light. One of the aliens swore in a different language; another laughed.

Taylor kept shaking, his palms sweating where they were pressed against the wall. He was overcome by shame and a horrible agoraphobia, a panic of being trapped and on display. He had a momentary flashback to the trade station, the shackles, the crowd. He clenched his teeth and his eyes watered.

The officer who had sworn pushed the laughing officer aside. "Knock it off!" she growled. She batted away the other officer's hand, letting Taylor's shirt drop back down.

The head officer scowled. "Alright, that's enough! Get them out of here!"

The aliens began to push Taylor and the others out into the hall. One grabbed Cody, who began to cry loudly. The head officer gestured to Tek. When everyone was out, he took one last glance around the room and slammed the door shut.

* * *

The fringes of the cornflower blue dress lapped against the soft curves of her ankles. One foot delicately placed in front of the other, she moved with the liquid grace of a panther. The glass doors slid open in humility as she passed.

Her eyes glanced over the teeming ant colony that was the police station at noon. Telecoms chirped and beeped, keyboards clicked, officers practically shouted to be heard over one another. Here and there citizens went about their business, inquiring over lost property, or squabbling over some petty criminal offense. The building was a maze of desks, cubicles, and bodies. The ends of her lips curled into a Cheshire grin.

"Business?" a voice drawled. Her attention shifted to a diminished-looking alien behind the front desk. Her hair was frizzed and her uniform hung crooked. She looked up at the woman with nothing short of irritation.

The woman smiled and turned to the counter, placing her hands on its surface. "Hello, I—"

There was a trilling sound and the alien's attention snapped away. In a flash, she had answered the call. "East District Station, state your business," she rattled off in a monotone. Without pause she began to respond in an entirely different language to the voice on the other side of the headset.

"Excuse me, I—"

"One moment," the alien replied, reaching for the com box. Faster than the alien could move, the woman's hand shot over the counter, blocking her. The alien's eyes flashed up with a mixture of alarm and annoyance.

"My name is Corinne Peters, I'm here about a report my husband Johann filed—"

"Chattel division, 10th door on the far right," she snapped, brushing Corinne's hand away. The com had barely begun to trill again. "East District Station, state your business."

"Thank you," she simpered, turning away. She begun to weave her way down the right side of the room, smiling at the officers as they passed. Finally, she found the door.

Although quieter, the "Chattel Division" appeared just as disheveled and complicated. She stepped into a room practically packed with cubicles. With no clear direction, she began to walk, glancing at the maze of cubicles as she passed. Most were empty, but some were filled with bored or irritated employees. The glimpse of pale blue amidst a sea of drab grays caused several heads to turn in her wake. Eventually she came to a darker corner, where a crooked sign announced in diminutive letters, scrawled in various languages: "Reports". She turned into a cubicle where a canine humanoid sat staring down at a screen, tapping the words around. The tiny spectacles on his face begun to slowly slip down his muzzle.

She stepped up to the desk. "Excuse me, sir," she purred.

Startled out of concentration, he looked up at her in surprise. His jowls creased into a faint smile of relief. There were deep lines under his eyes. A cup of something a deep green color sat beside the alien's left hand. "Ah! Hello. You must pardon, but I'm very busy, I'm afraid."

"I'd just like a moment, I got a call…"

"Peters report, I assume?"

"Yes."

"Well, have a seat, I suppose," he sighed. He gestured to a chair in front of the desk.

"Very busy this time of year, very busy, you wouldn't believe the amount of cases I get as petty as ruined dinners!" he muttered, straightening himself up, tapping his glasses. "There's a reason the codes were drawn up, but it seems most of these owners can't be bothered handling their own discipline… but aye, I've gone off on a tangent, I'm afraid. I was expecting to see your husband handling the rest of this case. My sympathy for your loss."

"Thank you. It's still quite a shock," she replied, dabbing at her eyes.

He sighed and turned towards the computer screen, beginning to type. "Yes, it's quite a shame, what a mess of datawork…" He cleared his throat. "Well Mrs. Peters, we have a number of matters to discuss concerning the chattel in question. As you are aware, we have them in a holding cell below the precinct as we speak. However, before we proceed, I'd like to clear up a few things." He glanced at Corinne, who was staring at him intently. Unnerved, his eyes darted back to the screen. "As inheritor of Mr. Peter's remaining estate, I am required by law to verify and complete our records before we can continue. Do you agree to give your testimony?"

"Yes, of course," Corinne replied, gaze unflinching.

Pushing up his glasses, he tapped the screen, words scrolling up. "In short, Mrs. Peters… early yesterday morning, your husband dialed an emergency response number. His call was diverted to our department when he demanded to file a report. Unfortunately, he was only able to say as much as that his chattel had escaped before the call was abruptly cut off. When emergency services arrived at the property, all structures had been destroyed by fire, and there was only one person on site – yourself, Mrs. Peters. You were found unconscious outside the house. From what little was reported from yourself at the time – and lack of any remains – Mr. Peters was logged as deceased," he droned, voice progressively hoarse. He began to cough loudly, and Corinne broke from her trance to pull out a small, lacy handkerchief and pass it to him. He accepted it with strained thanks, clearing his throat, and continued.

"Yesterday evening, we received a tip of suspicious persons at a nearby lodging facility. We sent a team to investigate and recovered two humans with numbers matching Mr. Peter's files. The other two humans and a Vusstran were arrested for obstruction and suspicion of accomplice." He leaned away from the screen with a sigh, pushing up his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately we weren't able to get much information out of them from questioning. The numbered refused to speak, and the rest claim they were on a business trip and happened to take in your property out of charity. We haven't had the personnel to spare for a thorough background check to verify their story…"

"That won't be necessary," Corinne interrupted.

"I beg your pardon?" The alien spluttered, startled out of his report.

"I said there is no need for you to look into the others," Corinne reassured, a smile tugging at her lips once more. "I would be more than happy to fill in the gaps for you. Oh, I promised dear Johann I wouldn't," she simpered, shooting the alien a coy look. Flustered, he looked away. "But it just doesn't seem right for me not to speak the truth, now, does it?"

"N-no, I suppose it doesn't," he coughed. "After are, we are officers of justice."

"Of course you are," she smiled. "Well. The other night, my husband was having, how to put this… a bit of a fit. Business has been so horrible lately, and he was worried we would soon lose our fortune. He was rather intoxicated, you see, and not really in his right mind. I pleaded with him to be reasonable, but he wouldn't hear of it. I'm sorry to say that I hid inside the house to stay away from him. Dear Johann, he went out of control and decided to take out his frustration on the boys. They managed to get away, and in his rage, Johann must have had it in his mind to set them up for a terrible crime, and collect his insurance money. He began to set fire to the buildings. When I saw what he was doing, I ran downstairs to stop him. But the buildings were too old, and they caught fire faster than he was probably expecting. When I came downstairs, Johann was unconscious, and fire was burning through the kitchen. I raced to save him, but the heat was too intense… I… I turned and fled as the house caught on fire, and I must have passed out just outside. When I woke up… everything was gone." She sniffed and dabbed her eyes on the hem of her dress.

The alien gazed at Corinne, moved with sympathy. "I am sorry for what you have suffered, Mrs. Peters," he said.

She nodded her head and glanced up at him, twisting her dress earnestly. "Please, sir… please release them. They have done nothing wrong. If anything, it is my fault for not being able to stop my husband…"

The alien shook his hands. "Oh no, Mrs. Peters, it is not your fault! I'll be more than happy to release them, and return the, err… boys to you. I think it would be best for us all to just avoid a whole mess of datawork by carrying this further, don't you?" She smiled and nodded with appreciation, and he looked away sheepishly, turning his attention back to the computer. "Well, I'm sorry to say that you won't be able to collect on the insurance, as the damage was self-inflicted, but I can start the datawork to sign over your husband's estate, whenever you are ready."

"Thank you, sir, I really do appreciate it," she cooed, patting his hand.

"I'll, err… I'll call an officer up to escort you to the holding cells, if that's all," he said, standing.

"Yes, thank you," she replied, standing and smoothing out the folds of her dress. She pursed her lips and tapped her cheek. "Oh, wait… if you don't mind, can you do me one last favor?"

He blinked. "Yes? What is it?"

"Could you please clear the numbered boys from my records? I would like to release them. They've been through such an ordeal as it is, and there is really no need for them now that the business is gone… I think it's about time they had their freedom, don't you?"

"Y-yes, of course, ma'am, I'll get right on that," he stammered, incredulous. She smiled and turned away.

"Thank you for your time."

* * *

A flight of stairs led down to a long, dimly lit corridor. Cells were lined up neatly on either side, sealed by shimmering force fields. Faint spotlights stretched down across the ceiling, giving the cells the barest bit of illumination.

A force field crackled and hummed as a fist stroke a fruitless blow against it. From inside the cell, Cale withdrew his hand, giving only the faintest hint of pain. He sighed and leaned against the barrier, glancing back behind him at the small, cramped cell.

Dover sat motionless on a bench in the corner, his head resting against the wall. Cody lay curled up in his lap, chest rising and falling softly as he dozed. Tucked uncomfortably beneath the bench was Tai, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, knuckles white where they clutching his shoulders. His eyes stared blankly across the floor.

Cale gazed sadly down at the defeated form of his best friend before glancing away. "I'm sorry," he muttered at last. Dover's eyes strayed to Cale. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't come… if I hadn't gotten involved…"

Dover sighed. "Well, well, it's kind of late for the hero to feel regret, isn't it? It's game over, anyhow. We're in the lion's den now, and no amount of sweet talking or gambling or gasoline is going to get us out of this."

If possible, Tai seemed to curl in on himself more. Catching the movement, Cale turned away from the force field. "Dover… knock it off… don't say that…"

"What? It's true. When they figure out what we did, we're as good as dead, anyhow. Well, maybe _you'll_ live, but you're not gonna see the sun for a long, long time, bye-bye," Dover muttered, waving his hand. Cale scowled.

"They wouldn't really kill you guys, would they? I mean… there's got to be something… I…" Cale stammered.

There was a whimper from beneath the bench. Cale glanced down at Tai, who had buried his head in his arms, and was shaking violently. "I… hope… they… kill us," he choked out. "I'd rather… die… rather die than… go back…"

A clang rang out through the corridor. Cale and Dover's attention snapped to the outside, where footsteps echoed towards their cell. A guard stopped in front of the cell, tapping a panel out of view. The field fizzed and disappeared.

"Out," the alien barked. Cale and Dover exchanged glances, and Cale edged cautiously out of the cell. Dover wrapped a groggy Cody's arms around his neck and stood up, heading for the corridor. He stopped and glanced back.

"Taylor, come on," Dover hissed down at Taylor, who wasn't moving. Taylor shook his head. Dover glanced at the guard, who was tapping his foot impatiently, and reached down and grabbed Taylor's arm with his free hand. Taylor clawed at Dover's hand, but Dover clenched harder, dragging Taylor out from under the bench. They hobbled awkwardly towards the corridor, Taylor blinking as his eyes adjusted to the light.

Another guard had fetched Tek from a different cell, and he stood beside Cale, his blind eyes staring in confusion. Taylor looked away, and his breath died in his chest as he caught sight of who else was standing in the corridor, smiling – Corinne.

She nodded to the guards, and they backed off, heading back down the corridor and up the stairs, a door clanging shut behind them.

"Hello, boys," she said finally, glancing at each of them in turn. Cody was stirring awake, looking around in sleepy puzzlement.

For a moment they all stood staring at her. Dover was the first to move. "What… what are you doing here?" he said at last. "Where's Master?"

Her attention turned to him, her face melting with sugary sweetness. "Oh, dear. Johann is dead." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Taylor twitch. "Oh, don't worry, you didn't kill him."

"Then who…?" Taylor bit out.

"I did," she interrupted. "It really was rather simple. A quick blow to the head… a little fire… and, oh! Gone." She pressed a delicate hand to her mouth.

Dover stepped back, clutching Cody to his chest. Cody blinked up at him. "What's going on? What's she saying?"

Cale glared at Corinne, putting a hand on Taylor's shoulder, who looked faint. "Why? Why would you kill him?"

Her eyes were cold, but she smiled at him all the same. "He was becoming such a nuisance… I couldn't have him blabbing about this and that… no, it was much easier to just have things… my way. It really was such a chore, just watching. Watching him waste everything we had built up. Better to end things now, before they became much too troublesome, before it was all gone." Her gaze drifted to Tai, who stared at her with a mixture of disgust and horror. "Besides, isn't that what you wanted, Taylor, dear? Haven't I made you happy?" she purred.

He looked away, face flushed. "No, I… this isn't what I wanted…" he whispered.

"Oh? What a pity," she tisked. She clapped her hands together. "Well, how about this? I've arranged for all of you to be set free! Surely you'll be happy to hear that, won't you?"

Dover stared at her in shock, clutching Cody so tightly that he squeaked in pain. "We're…"

Cale glared at her, arms folded. "Why?"

Her eyes snapped to Cale. "Oh, of course, you," she began, inching towards him. "When I first saw you on the porch that morning, muttering to yourself… I thought… oh, but it's just too bad, isn't it? Too bad." She backed away, leaving Cale reeling from the scent of her perfume. She sighed and turned towards Dover and Cody, brushing back a lock of hair. "To tell the truth, I just can't have _his_ child around anymore… it would just be such a bother if he were discovered, hmm?" She floated up to the two, her thin fingers reaching out and ruffling Cody's hair softly. "I can't touch him now, but I can still convince you to take care of him for me, can't I?" she murmured, gazing up into Dover's eyes.

Dover grimaced. "I get it. A bribe? You let us go as long as we don't squeal about the kid?"

She grinned. "You always were so smart," she clicked, running her nails along his cheek. He shivered involuntarily. "I'll miss you. Playing with you was always so fun," she smirked. Dover fought down a blush as she withdrew her hand and turned her attention back to Taylor. He stood staring down at the floor, fists clenched. He refused to look up as she drew near.

"Oh, but I'll miss you the most," she hummed, standing in front of him. "You were always so shy, so insecure." She leaned down to look up into his face, hidden by a curtain of dark hair. She smiled and pressed her hand to his cheek, feeling him shudder beneath her palm. She leaned in close to whisper into his ear. "I'll let you in on a little secret. You were always my favorite. You'll miss me, too, won't you?" Taylor drew in a rattling breath, and she smirked. "That's a good boy." She pressed her lips to his cheek and drew away.

Corinne gave a satisfied sigh and clutched her hands together, looking over the group. "Well. I guess this is good-bye, then, isn't it? Go on, then. I might just change my mind."

Cale was the first to move forward, holding Tek's hand. "Come on, Tek…"

"Hmm? Where are we going?" Tek quipped, following.

"We're getting out of here," Cale replied. He glared at Corinne as they passed.

Shifting Cody's weight in his arms, Dover moved forward. As he drew towards Corinne, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words died in his throat. He glanced away, to Taylor. "Taylor. Let's go," he whispered, turning away and following Cale and Tek.

Taylor stood, willing himself to move, fighting nausea and a tumult of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He forced his eyes to gaze up, up into the icy blue eyes staring back at him above a coy smile. "This… this means we're free, right? You're not going to find us again, are you?"

She tsked and grazed his arm with her hand. "Oh, Taylor. You'll never really be free."

He stared into her eyes for a moment, and broke away, blinking. He ran to catch up with the others where they stood waiting at the door. As they walked through the door, Taylor glanced back to catch a glimpse of radiant blue, before the door closed with a faint click.


	16. Epilogue

The flowers fell to the dusty earth, scorched dry from the sun. Taylor put his hand back into his jacket, staring down at the ground, drifting into thought.

It had been ten years since he was last at this spot. Much has changed since then. He had gone to live with Cale on a salvage station, the _Tau-14_ , where he slowly adjusted to the peculiarities of space, and drowned himself in tedious work. A stranger had shown up one day when he was twenty years old, bringing with him chaos and taking with him Cale. Taylor was left behind with Tek, who died not long later. Alone, he waited with dim hope once again for Cale to return. A year later, he did. With him he brought a new home world, and Cale had transformed from Taylor's best friend to a figurehead for humanity. Taylor followed Cale and his wife to the new planet, and the happiness he had felt at Cale's return faded as they saw less and less of one another. Cale made sure, at least, that Taylor was well provided-for; he set Taylor up with a job at an agency, set up to help reunite the stranded fragments of humanity with one another. It was odd at first, settling into an office job: to wear a uniform, to work with people. As he slowly opened up to the experience of a community; as he helped people, and shared in the joy of families and friends brought back together; he began to believe that things could be better. He slowly began to smile again. He wanted to believe that there was a way to be free again.

Yet sometimes, he would be struck down by images that flashed through his mind, snippets of feelings that would swell up from nowhere, nauseating and horrifying him. More than once, he would find himself caught in the grip of some fragment replaying in his head. Living alone with only a cat for company, he found the easiest way to escape the flow of memories that tugged at his mind was to just drink himself to sleep. That was probably one of the reasons he found himself back here, Dover and Cody at his side, staring down at her grave.

Taylor glanced to his side. Dover stood staring at the ground, hands in his pockets, lost in thought. He had aged, and a faint beard was climbing up the sides of his face, but he was still much the same as he had been ten years ago – still cocky, still full of life. He and Taylor had split up ten years ago, Dover taking Cody to live on a Drifter Colony before moving to New Earth. Taylor and Dover got together sometimes to talk about how things were going, which is how Taylor came to learn that Dover was now married, and had a young daughter named Kaela. Taylor imagined she was just like her father – a firecracker, and a handful. Everything had worked out so well for Dover and his new family. Everything seemed so perfect. Unlike Taylor, Dover never seemed to think about how things were. He had no reason to.

Cody stood silently at Dover's side, hands in the pocket of an oversized sweatshirt, one blue eye and one green eye staring down at the grave. His platinum hair was hidden under a hood, a small braid on the side of his face falling down onto his shoulder. He slouched into his clothing as if he might disappear into them. Cody had grown up into a very quiet young teenager, who rarely spoke to anyone aside from Dover. He showed little interest in anything but music, and spent most of his time playing an antique acoustic guitar that Dover had scrounged up for him. Taylor was struck by how fast Cody seemed to have grown. He could only wonder what Cody was thinking as he stared down at the grave of a mother he had never really known. In his heart, Taylor regretted the distance he had kept from Cody since the boy was born. There were too many painful memories; too many feelings that came sweeping back every time he looked in Cody's eyes. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't will himself to forget the circumstances surrounding Cody's birth; the things he did to keep Cody alive. Maybe one day, he thought faintly, he wouldn't be bound to those memories anymore. Sensing Taylor's gaze, Cody glanced up at Taylor, and Taylor looked away.

"Can we go now?" Cody muttered, toeing the ground.

Dover glared down at Cody in consternation. "Shh, Cody. This is very important to your uncle, so just cool it for a little bit, okay?"

"He's not my uncle," he mumbled. "This is stupid. Ow!" Cody rubbed the back of his head where Dover had tapped his palm.

"It's okay, Dover. I appreciate you guys coming," Taylor sighed, tearing his eyes away from the grave to glance off behind him. There was nothing left of the place he had once known; just the skeletal remains of a windmill, and some ruins. Nostalgia was mixed with a confused pain.

Dover thumped his hand on Taylor's shoulder. "Hey, it's no problem. You ready to go home?" Taylor nodded slowly, and they turned away, Cody leading the way. Taylor and Dover strode next to one another, Taylor staring off towards the horizon line. "So? Did you find what you were looking for?" Dover asked, cutting into Taylor's thoughts.

Taylor glanced at Dover, and felt himself smile. "Maybe."


End file.
